Las Consecuencias
by Awesome Opossum
Summary: (Complete) Sequel to La Rencontre Momentanée, go read that first. Harry's back at Hogwarts, coping with the upcoming war, Death Eaters, and unstable relationships of all types.
1. Back at Hogwarts

A/N – I'm so sorry, guys, this is about three months overdue. I've got the entire story _written_, but only a third typed out, and I've just lacked motivation and time both. But here I am with a free day and major guilt, so here's the beginning of the sequel to _La Rencontre Momentanée_. Enjoy. :-)

---

"Ron, I'm sorry I have to do this," Harry said lowly, raising his wand above his head. "You've been a good friend to me, all these years, but if you aren't loyal to him you can't be loyal to me."

"Harry, what's the _matter_ with you?" Ron asked, backing up. "Please put down your wand. Harry, you're scaring me," he choked. "Who are you loyal to? Who're you talking about?"

"Voldemort," Harry hissed. "I'm talking about Voldemort. You oppose him, don't you?"

"Yes," Ron said slowly. "Don't… don't you?"

"No, Harry breathed, pointing his wand at Ron. "On the contrary, I'm his ally. His best, most powerful supporter. I'm going to take over, Ron, I'm going to be amazing," he giggled. "And what better place to begin than with the Mudblood-loving best friend?"

"Harry, _no_," Ron pleaded. "You can't."

"Oh, but I can. Avada Kedavra!"

Ron crumpled and his corpse dropped to the ground. Harry nudged it with the toe of his shoe and laughed.

_My most powerful ally_, a voice murmured in his ear. _You will be amazing, Harry, I promise you. Remain loyal and we will explore your potential. Amazing, Harry, powerful, feared. Nobody to answer to. Don't you want that?_

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Yeah, I do. Help me."

_Remain loyal, that's all you have to do,_ the voice promised. _Join me_.

"Yeah, okay," Harry answered. The Dark Mark flashed white-hot then, and Harry awoke screaming.

"Harry Potter? Are you okay?" A thin finger poked him. "Should Dobby – would you like Dobby to get Professor Dumbledore, sir?"

"Mmph, Dobby?" Harry rasped, fumbling for his glasses. He found them and shoved them on. "Why're you in my room?" he asked bluntly, pouring a glass of water.

Dobby squirmed. "Well, you see, sir, Professor Dumbledore asked Dobby to stay here and make sure you're okay…. Are you?" he asked, peering at him.

"Um, yeah." Harry glanced out the window. "Yeah, I'm fine," he lied. "Is it afternoon already?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, sir. You didn't sleep well. Would you like a potion for dreamless sleep?" Dobby offered eagerly.

"No, that's okay…. I'd just like to be alone, if it's not too much to ask."

"Actually, sir," Dobby said tentatively, "the feast is tonight, Dobby was wondering if you would be joining?"

"The feast already?" Harry said dumbly. Dobby nodded and pointed at the enchanted clock on his bedside table. Sunday, September first. Well, damn. "I guess."

"Good, good," Dobby squeaked with satisfaction. Then his ears drooped. "But there is one thing I should be warning you, sir."

"What?"

"Professor Dumbledore suspects an attack on Hogwarts soon, by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Only seventh years are allowed back," Dobby said slowly.

"Why would Voldemort attack _now_?"

"Well, sir, because of you."

"Me." Harry took a deep breath. "Dobby, could I have some time alone?"

"Of course, sir. Shall Dobby come fetch you when your friends arrive?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks." Dobby left with a bow and Harry sighed, locking himself in the bathroom.

He pushed his left sleeve up and pulled back the gauze. The Dark Mark engraved in his skin was still a shock everytime he took off the gauze, the grotesque image and shiny red skin. He had grown used to the dull constant ache and nearly the sharp abrupt stabs of pain. But the first look at it had always stunned him.

He took a jar of ointment from its place on the shelf and spread it along the burned skin. Dumbledore had given him the salve, promising nothing but temporary pain relief. The only way to remove the Dark Mark, he had said, was to kill Voldemort. That was all he told Harry, the only thing between him and imminent death or a forced life as a Death Eater.

Thanks a goddamn lot, Dumbledore.

He replaced the unguent back on the shelf and wrapped his arm in clean gauze. His forearm numbed, but his scar ached as though Voldemort was near.

But he had grown used to that too.

---

The feast began at six, and that's when Dobby escorted him to the Great Hall. "You will be returning to a dormitory, sir," he told Harry hastily as he skipped down a flight of stairs, "and Dobby will be moving your belongings. You will be with your friends again, and oh, they will be so happy to see you!"

"Yeah, thanks," Harry said distractedly as they neared the Great Hall and he scanned the crowd for Ron and Hermione. "I'll see you later."

"Harry!" He spun around and spotted Ron. "Harry, _there_ you are. We didn't see you on the train, thought you decided not to come back."

"Of course I came back," Harry said, pulling Ron and Hermione into a hug. "Why wouldn't I?"

"A lot of people didn't," Hermione told him. "The Patil twins and Lavender transferred to Beauxbatons. And I think Crabbe and Goyle are at Durmstrang, we didn't see them either."

"More likely Azkaban," Ron interjected. "Think they've been branded yet?"

Harry felt his stomach tighten. "What about Malfoy?" he asked.

"Still here," Hermione said reluctantly. "But something must've happened over the summer, because I think he's keeping a low profile."

"It was weird," Ron agreed. "He sat in a compartment all by himself. Stupid git, his minions are gone and now he's got nobody to bully." He cast a disgusted look to where Draco was leaning against a column. "If I could pick one person who got the Dark Mark over the summer, it'd be him."

Harry would have laughed if his heart weren't pounding audibly. "No, he didn't," he said. "At least not last summer. He was in Switzerland the entire time," he told his friends, recalling something Lucius had said.

Both looked at him strangely. "Did he tell you that?" Hermione asked.

"Uh, yeah." They were filing into the Great Hall, giving Harry an excuse to look away, relieved.

There were no longer four large tables, but three smaller ones, arranged in an open square with chairs only along the outer edges. The staff table remained the same, but both the House banners and hourglasses were noticeably absent.

"So how did you get here?" Ron asked curiously as they took their seats.

"Stayed here over the summer," Harry said carelessly, hoping they wouldn't ask too many questions.

"Dumbledore thought it was safer that way?" Hermione predicted. "If Voldemort's come back, you're going to be his first attack. Sorry," she added apologetically, "but I'm being realistic."

"No, it's okay," Harry said. "It's true."

"Oh Harry," she said sympathetically, "you shouldn't have to deal with this, no one should."

"I'm used to it." He saw Hermione and Ron exchange pitying looks over his head. "Oh, don't feel sorry for me," he snapped. Another look, confused this time. He didn't care.

"Good evening, everyone," Dumbledore called over the buzz of scattered conversations. "I'm pleased to see that you made it here safely." He scanned their faces. "And so very grateful you all came to assist us." He stroked his beard and surveyed the Great Hall sadly. "Intuition coupled with anonymous sources inform me that Lord Voldemort will attack Hogwarts shortly, as was mentioned in the letters home. Your typical classes have been cancelled, to be replaced by ones more suitable for these circumstances. Independent study of defensive spells is, as always, encouraged, but I must remind you that Dark Arts are still illegal," his eyes met Harry's, "because we are better than our opponents."

Harry avoided his stare, anger bubbling up within him.

"The upper floors are also now off-limits due to safety issues. The Great Hall and kitchen will remain open, but classes and dormitories are now located solely in the dungeons." A quiet murmur went up among the students. "Yes, they used to be the Slytherin dormitories. However, there has been a temporary end to houses. You are no longer four houses, but one school united. Any grudges you may have – " animus glares exchanged between the Slytherins and Gryffindors " – should be set aside," Dumbledore said firmly, looking down his nose at the hostile glares. "Dormitory arrangements are posted on the dungeon door.

"Looking around, I see Hogwarts's brightest, most resourceful, most experienced – " a faint smile in Harry's direction " – and I am, again, grateful for your help. In addition several Aurors will be on the grounds at all times. May I introduce Alastor Moody, Nymphadora Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt. Also joining us are Bill Weasley and Remus Lupin."

Harry hadn't studied the staff table before, but looked up at the list of familiar names. Sure enough, on the far left side were the Order members. Tonks caught his eye and winked at him, and Remus offered a small smile. He smiled back at both of them.

"This is a drastic change from last year, but hopefully everyone will adjust. If not, nobody will begrudge you for returning home early," Dumbledore assured them. "But at the moment, let us all think more light-hearted thoughts and enjoy the feast."

He took his seat, and gold platters heaped with food appeared on the tabletops. The tension over the Great Hall dissolved as chatter once again broke out.

---

"Rooming in the dungeon, can you believe it," Ron muttered as they descended the stone steps. "Hopefully they at least let us room by house."

"I doubt it," Hermione said. "It would be just like Dumbledore to sort of mingle everyone to promote inner-house peace. And I think it's a good idea," she added firmly. "Look, there's the list." She pointed.

There were a few students lingering beneath the sheet, but not so many that the trio couldn't get to it. "Oh, this isn't bad," Hermione said. "Hannah, Lisa, and Mandy, I'm rooming with."

Ron brightened. "I'm with Seamus and Dean. Oh, and Terry Boot. At least I'm not _mingling_ with Malfoy."

"I am," Harry spoke up, staring dejectedly at the list.

"Oh, sorry, mate. Maybe you can hex him in his sleep," Ron suggested. Harry only forced a smile and bid his friends an early goodnight.

"Potter," Draco drawled as he entered the dorm. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"You must have excellent karma," Harry said wearily as he opened his trunk sitting at the foot of a four-poster. "Just… pretend I don't exist or something. I'll do the same."

"It's one of my greatest fantasies, Potter, I'll have no trouble," Draco reassured him.

"Oh good." He tossed worn cotton pajamas onto his bed and shut the trunk again.

The door opened hesitantly and two boys entered. "Hi Harry," Justin greeted him, sounding relieved. "I was so worried I'd be in a room and didn't know anybody," he confided. "You're Draco Malfoy, aren't you?" he asked, reaching to shake his hand.

Draco accepted distastefully. "You're a Hufflepuff."

"Yeah. Justin Finch-Fletchley, pleased to meet you. Oh, and this is Xanthus Moon."

"Hi guys," the second boy said with a smile, tugging his dark blue bangs.

Draco surveyed him. "What did your hair ever do to you?"

"Hm? I kinda like it," Xanthus said casually, unpacking books onto his bedside table. "I'm a Ravenclaw, if it matters to any of you," he mentioned, raising an eyebrow at Draco, who shrugged.

"Nice meeting you, Xanthus, but I'm going to bed," Harry said shortly, pulling the curtain around his bed closed around the frame and ducking inside. "'Night."

He pulled on his pajamas and switched off the light above his bed. But he lay in bed awake for a long time afterward thinking. The war, his friends, Lucius – no, _not_ Lucius, who had lied to him and seduced him shamelessly and was the entire reason he had the Dark Mark now. Nope, Lucius wasn't even worthy to be in his thoughts.

But he was the final thought for Harry as he drifted to sleep.


	2. Confessions

A/N – I heart my reviewers, thanks to all of you. :-) And the chapters are going to be posted at more irregular times than La Rencontre Momentanée. Sorry, but school and stuff…. Yeah. In any case, enjoy.

---

"I cannot help but feeling… _used_, Professor," Harry said silkily. "Surely you recognize that I don't wish to be a pawn in your chess game. I am worth more than that."

"You are the sacrifice, Harry," Dumbledore answered. "The only way to kill the Dark Lord is through you. It's for the common good."

"To hell with the common good," Harry snapped, drawing out his wand. "You are manipulative and overbearing. I don't need you anymore."

"No, Harry, you don't," Dumbledore agreed sadly. "But we need you. "You're the weapon, the war trophy."

"You bastard," Harry snarled. "Avada Kedavra." And with a careless flick of his wand, Albus Dumbledore lay at his feet, dead.

_It feels good, doesn't it, _the same cold voice asked. _You don't need him, he's only hindering you. They all are. Except me. I won't hinder you, Harry, I will only aid. Your power will be unparalleled, great than mine even. Although not quite yet_, they said with a smile, _neither of us is ready yet. But it will be amazing._

"When?" Harry asked. "When does it begin?"

_Dear boy, it already has_, the voice chuckled.

The Dark Mark burned, agonizing, consuming his flesh, muscle. Only bone was left, milk-white and brittle. He was screaming, clawing at the disappearing flesh. From his place on the ground, Dumbledore, waxy and glassy-eyed, laughed at him.

---

"Potter! Are you awake?" A rough shove. "You shut up, at least." Over his shoulder. "Think I can still smother him?"

"Malfoy?" Harry struggled to sit up. "Why are you standing over me at two in the morning?"

"You didn't hear yourself?" Justin asked, pushing back the curtain around his bed. "You were screaming."

"Oh god, guys, I'm sorry," Harry groaned. "I had a nightmare. Feel free to wake me up if I do it again."

"You think we didn't try?" Xanthus laughed wryly. "It was like you were… stuck asleep." He blinked. "That sounds stupid."

"Sure does," Draco agreed as he crawled back into bed. "Potter, next time you start yelling can I smother you?"

"No," Harry said as he pulled the curtain shut. But the rest of the night, he had feverish uneasy dreams of death and that cold voice.

---

He awoke again early, Dark Mark throbbing. Digging through his trunk, he saw that Dobby had packed his gauze and ointment. But when he peeled back the old gauze, he nearly choked. It was darker than he remembered, looking almost charred. He rewrapped it quickly before pulling back the drape.

He wasn't the only one up; Draco was sitting on the edge of his bed brushing his hair. It touched the nape of his neck, Harry noted; he must have grown it out over holidays. He looked over disturbingly like Lucius then. And even moreso when he glanced over, eyes sparkling with mockery and confidence, and raised an eyebrow. "See something you like?" he asked coolly.

"Don't flatter yourself," Harry snapped. "I was just thinking that you look like L – your father," he corrected, mentally kicking himself.

Draco had caught it, though. "Since when are you on a first-name basis with my father?" he asked suspiciously.

Harry shrugged. "I'm just disrespectful, I suppose."

"Yes, well, people of your caliber and acquaintance typically are," Draco smirked. He set down the brush and picked up a bottle of Sleekeasy's Hair Potion and spritzed it on liberally. "Funny you should mention, though," he continued.

Oh god, he was going to throw up. "Why's that?"

"He said that our very own Boy-Who-Lived got the Dark Mark this summer," Draco said eagerly. He leaned forward. "So did you?"

"No." Harry pulled out a set of robes and tossed them onto his pillow. "I think your dad's cracked."

"Well, I think you're lying."

"Malfoy, if I were a Death Eater you'd be the first one dead."

Draco sneered. "Is that a threat?"

Harry raised an eyebrow in return. "Is that a dare?" He gathered his robes and toiletries and locked himself in the bathroom, shaking.

---

"Morning, 'Arry," Tonks greeted him cheerily as he took a seat in the Great Hall. She offered him bacon, which he accepted gratefully. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," Harry lied.

"You don't look like it," Tonks said honestly. She patted him on the shoulder. "I'm going to be teaching a class today," she confided. "Don't tell anyone, I want it to be a secret. I'm so nervous," she giggled.

"What're you teaching?" Harry asked with interest.

"Magical medicine," she said proudly. "Wartime injuries, you know, we'll be in need of a lot more medics. Ginny said she was interested, but I don't know how Molly would feel about _that_. Hopefully we don't get that desperate though, to be using underage students."

"Hopefully not," Harry agreed absently.

"So how was your summer?" Tonks asked with a tone of forced brightness.

His stomach tightened again, and he dropped the second piece of bacon he was about to eat. "It was alright," he lied easily. "Spent most of it here on Dumbledore's wishes."

"Oh, mate, I'm sorry," Tonks frowned. "I went to Spain holidays, if I'd known you were here I would've kidnapped you and taken you with me."

He tried to stay calm, really, he did. But he felt the blood drains from his face. Kidnap him like Lucius had. He didn't want to think about him. Lucius, manipulative and backstabbing and sexy as hell. "Harry?" Tonks peered at him. "Harry, you look a bit peaky."

"Would you excuse me," Harry muttered. He pushed back his chair hastily and ran to the bathroom.

---

He was gargling at the sink when Ron pushed open the door, looking concerned. "Harry? We called you in the hall. What's wrong?"

Harry shook his head and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I'm okay now."

"Good. Let's go meet 'Mione." He took Harry's wrist and guided him out of the bathroom.

Hermione was leaning against a wall uneasily. "'Morning, Harry," she said, sounding relieved. "Are you alright?"

Two days into school and he was already sick of hearing that. "Yeah."

"No, really." They started back at an easy pace to the Great Hall.

"What makes you think I'm lying?"

Hermione smiled. "Your nostrils flare when you lie. So what really happened this summer?"

Ron was watching his features closely. "Can you lie, Harry?" he asked.

Harry sighed. "I _told_ you, I stayed here."

Ron looked disappointed. "The entire time?" he pressed.

"No." Harry pushed his fingers through his hair. "Look, I do want to talk it out with someone. But not right in the middle of the hall."

Hermione glanced over. "Fair enough. Your room?"

"No. Somewhere safer."

"Well, we're rather limited," she said in exasperation.

Ron raised an eyebrow. "How about we go upstairs, then?" When Hermione began to protest, he pointed out, "You're right, no one's allowed up there, so there's no chance of being overheard."

"Oh fine." And they cautiously overstepped the barrier and ran up the staircase.

"You sure nobody's up here?" Harry asked, looking around into the darkness.

"No, but they shouldn't be," Ron answered, taking a seat against the cold stone wall. Harry and Hermione joined him. "So Harry," he said cheerfully," what's on your mind?"

And Harry told them everything.

---

It was silent after he finished, somber and shocked. Finally Ron said quietly, "Well, let's see it then."

"See what?"

"The Dark Mark, you idiot." His tone was harsher than necessary.

Harry pulled back his sleeve. "Are you sure?"

"No, you don't have to," Hermione told him softly. "I believe you."

"You have to," Ron spoke over her. "I don't want to believe you. So show me."

Harry pulled the gauze off slowly, unwillingly. He thrust his arm out to Ron, and he squinted in the weak light. He ran his fingers over it, and a wave of nausea again overcame him.

_ Oh yes_, the voice from is dreams said. _The Muggle-loving best friend. Arthur's son? He's going to die, Harry. Betray you, leave you, and then get killed. Distance yourself from people like this, stupid idealistic flea-ridden – _

"No!" Harry shouted suddenly, pulling away. Ron looked startled.

"No," he agreed. "No, I can't be friends with someone like you."

"Ron, I'm sorry. I was forced into it – "

"You said he gave you a choice!" Ron interrupted hotly. "_You_ wanted to study Dark Arts, _you_ didn't protest to these _lessons_ he gave you. You wanted this, Harry, all along. You could've said no! Unless you were too busy sleeping with Lucius Malfoy to think of that," he finished brusquely.

"Don't you even assume that," Harry snarled, standing. Ron rose to match his height. "Don't you _even_ assume that was related."

"So why did it happen?" Ron challenged.

"Because… I care about him," Harry fumbled to explain. "Cared," he corrected himself as an afterthought.

"Oh, I'm sure you do," Ron snapped. "You care about him and the rest of your Death Eater friends as well, no doubt." He turned on his heel. "I don't even want to be seen with you," he said disgustedly over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Harry."

Hermione had watched the ordeal silently, and only now stood and gave Harry a tentative hug. "Maybe this wasn't a good idea," she said sadly into his chest. He laughed a little bitterly. She pulled away, and even in the faint light he saw her eyes bright with tears. "Listen, I… I'm not going to react like Ron. But I need some time to think, to figure out how I feel about this. I'll see you later." She left without another word, leaving Harry standing alone in the unlit hallway.

"Potter, I should expel you for being up here." He whirled around to find Snape leaning against a doorway, arms crossed over his chest. "However, while I decide your fate you can come pack up equipment." He reentered the classroom and Harry followed reluctantly.

Snape was stacking crates of hellebore and motioned to scales on the counter. "Box those up, they're needed in the dungeon." He turned back to a supply cabinet.

Harry sullenly fitted them back into their Styrofoam and replaced them in the box.

"I'd have thought your judgment was better than that, even being you," Snape commented.

"What're you talking about?" Harry snapped.

"Sleeping with Lucius, to begin with," Snape replied acidly.

Harry felt the knot in his stomach tighten just a little more. "It really doesn't affect you now, though, does it?"

Snape set down the box he had been filling. "I've known him since I was seven years old," he began coolly. "Our fathers were together in the Dark Arts. I went to school with him for several years. He is charismatic, well-spoken, intelligent, and cultured." Harry saw his fists clench tightly. "He is also ambitious, cunning, and powerful. Not bad traits in and of themselves, but Harry, he's _dangerous_."

"He's not, and I don't want to talk about this," Harry said in a measured tone.

Snape snorted. "I know you're not going to listen to Dumbledore. You're probably not going to listen to me or anyone else either. Because you're famous Harry Potter and you're tragically misunderstood and nobody has the answers but you. But humor me for a minute."

"You're not exactly endearing yourself to me." He closed the box and leaned up against the counter. "But I'd be fascinated to hear what you've got to say," he said icily.

Snape threw open a second cupboard violently. "No. You don't care, why waste the effort. Surely you realize that right now your options are either Death Eater or death. And you know exactly how to handle the situation, based on your cockiness. And you know what being a Death Eater entails exactly. Right, Potter?"

"Yes."

Snape clenched his fists again. "Carry that to the Potions classroom," he instructed Harry. "And get the hell out of my sight."

"Yes, _sir_," Harry spat. He lifted the box onto a shoulder and stalked out of the room, seething.


	3. Occlumency Lessons

A/N – My reviewers are the best and I love them to pieces. :-) And I'm on winter recess now, yay me. So I should be updating a little more often until January 3. Hypothetically, at least. I'm a proud owner of Sims 2, you see. And. Well. :-p I'll try to update more often nonetheless. Enjoy the chapter.

---

"Bezoars are a general antidote against most poisons," Tonks said to the class, looking like she was trying hard to sound academic. "However, it has unexpected side effects with a select few, can anyone tell me which?"

Hermione's hand shot up, and Tonks nodded at her. "It's ineffective against belladonna and aconite," she said promptly.

Tonks's smile fell. "No, actually – "

"Miss Granger is correct," Snape drawled from his position in the back of the classroom. "Perhaps we need somebody else to be teaching this class," he suggested icily.

"No, professor, I was doing good until then," Tonks pleaded. She flipped open a textbook and continued the lesson from there.

Harry had used the time to stop thinking. He had been thinking – sulking – too often recently. It was nice break. Instead he looked around the classroom: the desks had been cleared out, and now everyone was curled up in a beanbag chair or on an ottoman. Ron and Hermione were on the opposite side of the room, and Harry had, by amazingly bad luck, ended up next to Draco. Snape was sitting in on the class to make sure Tonks didn't mess up spectacularly, and Harry deliberately avoided his gaze.

When Tonks was lecturing about ashwinder venom, he felt it. A burning pain in the Dark Mark, not the stabs he had experienced before, but a more… insistent feeling.

Snape rose from his ottoman. "Go on," he said to Tonks. "I'll be back shortly." He strode out briskly, wand out. The Dark Mark burned more intensely, now throbbing. It spread up his arm, through his chest, he was choking –

---

"How are you feeling, dear?" Madam Pomfrey chirped as she hovered over him. "Any better?"

"No," Harry said bluntly, rubbing his temples. Madam Pomfrey handed him a chocolate bar, pressing her hand against his forehead.

"What do you think happened?" she asked, frowning. "You seem to be in perfect health."

Harry broke off a square of chocolate and chewed it thoughtfully. "It felt like the Cruciatus," he answered, "but I'm fine now."

She paled. "Nobody here would cast the Cruciatus on you. It couldn't be You-Know-Who, there weren't any windows in the dungeon that a curse can pass through." For the first time in the seven years he had known her, Madam Pomfrey looked scared. He ate another piece of chocolate.

"Can I go now?"

"No," she snapped. "This is _serious_, Mr. Potter. I should go talk to Dumbledore…."

"I'll talk to him myself," Harry offered. Madam Pomfrey nodded, and he left.

He, of course, did _not_ go see Dumbledore. In fact, he was dead-tired and just wanted to go back to bed….

"Potter!"

God_damn._

Snape's robes were dusty and ragged, and his complexion was more pallid than usual. "Where _were_ you?" he hissed. "The Dark Lord was livid his new trophy didn't show up."

"I didn't realize I had to be anywhere," Harry answered coolly.

"You didn't feel it? He summons us through the Dark Mark, surely you know that."

"I know," Harry said icily, "but I just thought it was another normal pain – "

"What?" Snape cut him off, the malice in his tone gone. "There shouldn't _be_ any other pains, you idiot, it's been nearly a month – "

"Well, there _are_," Harry said harshly. "There's pains and dreams and I'm tired all the time."

Snape sighed and started up the stairs, motioning Harry to follow him. "The Dark Mark drains your energy, as Dumbledore no doubt explained to you." He turned a corner and ascended a second staircase; Harry recognized the path to Dumbledore's office. "But it sounds very much like you never mastered Occlumency. Did you?" An accusatory tone.

"I never had a competent mentor," Harry said coldly.

"You can speak with Dumbledore about that," Snape answered, equally cold.

"I will _not_."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "Why the animosity?"

Words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself – "He treats me like a child. I'm supposed to save the goddamned world, he doesn't tell me a damn thing about _that_ either, just lets me draw my own conclusions and run off and he'll step in at the very last second to keep me from getting killed."

"I'm as disappointed as you are, Mr. Potter," Snape drawled. "But if he hadn't let you run off unsupervised, I'm sure instead you would be complaining that he coddles you."

"He _does_," Harry insisted. "He doesn't think I'm old enough, mature enough, whatever, to learn Dark Arts. He expects me to defeat Voldemort with Expelliarmus!" His voice rose, threatening to crack. "I'm his savior and his pawn and his war trophy, and I _won't_ be used!"

Snape stood, arms crossed over his chest, studying him. "I'm in the same position, have you never noticed?"

"Never thought of it, but this isn't about you," Harry snapped.

Snape rolled his eyes. "No, no, your drama isn't about me. And, of course, Harry Potter is the only one in the world whose problems matter. But it would be too much of a security risk to not have you not learn Occlumency."

"I'm _not_ asking Dumbledore," Harry said emphatically. "What're my other options?"

Snape's mouth twisted into a sardonic smile.

Harry sighed. "Professor, would you teach me Occlumency?"

"The day he chooses me over Dumbledore. Extraordinary."

---

Harry was instructed to wait while Snape reported the most recent Death Eater news to Dumbledore. Which he wouldn't tell Harry either.

"You're as bad as he is," Harry said disgustedly. "Whatever Voldemort said, it must be important to me if I'm prophesized to kill him."

Snape looked up sharply. "Are you going to?"

"I… I don't know," Harry answered hesitantly.

"You can't have it both ways," he snapped. "Straddling the fence during a war only makes you the opposition to both sides. So where do you stand?"

Harry contemplated. "The winning side."

"Congratulations, that's just the answer I'd expect from a Death Eater," Snape said scornfully. "To my office." He led Harry back down the staircase.

"That's it?" Harry asked incredulously. "Suddenly I'm a Death Eater, and this doesn't _concern_ you?"

"Of all the traits you lack – intelligence, tact, common sense – I would never dream of including independence on that list. You make your own decisions, others' advice be damned."

Harry blinked. "Um, thanks?"

"It wasn't a compliment," Snape scoffed. "Such an attitude will get you into serious danger soon." They paused on the second story landing, and Snape glanced out the window. "Your lover is here," he mentioned casually, tone scornful.

"What?" Harry choked. Followed immediately by, "He's _not_ my lover." Snape only rolled his eyes.

Lucius was indeed there, flanked by a group of people, all looking thin-lipped. He was being dragged by a… collar, it seemed like, by the head woman, muscular and dark-haired. "Who's that and why are they all here?"

Snape peered out the window and snorted. "Surely you recognize the Minister?"

"No?" He resented Snape's patronizing air, but let it pass.

"Of course, I'm sure you were _otherwise occupied_ this summer when she was appointed," he smirked. "Ursula Urteil is the one manhandling Malfoy. Surrounding her are Sebastian Dawlish, Persephone Cacis, Ambika Enteliebe, and Ignatius Penxa." At Harry's blank stare, he snapped, "For God's sake, _Aurors_. And while I'm not positive what their business is, it would be a wise guess that it's got something to do with Lucius and his underhanded, illegal, double-crossing schemes." He turned away from the window. "He was also absent, you should know."

"Hm," Harry murmured, watching them. Ursula was pulling Lucius at a quicker pace than he could walk with any dignity. He stumbled, and Ignatius kicked him in the back of his knees, laughing. Harry felt his hands clench tightly.

"That's standard treatment for a Death Eater," Snape said bitterly. "Better, actually. I've seen mobs erupt – well, it's not important. Occlumency lessons."

Harry started. "Right _now_?"

"Yes." He pulled Harry away from the window. "If you're going to learn Occlumency from me, it will be at my convenience. This is convenient for me."

"Haven't I got classes right now?" Harry asked.

"Simple defensive spells that no doubt you already learned unsupervised." His lips twisted either into a smile or a sneer, Harry couldn't tell. "Besides, seeing _that_," he nodded toward the window, "You are probably just brimming with seventeen-year-old emotions, ideal for Occlumency." They descended the steps into the entranceway just as someone flung open the door and the group entered.

Lucius looked like he'd had no sleep for at least a week, and his typically-immaculate hair was limp and disheveled. He offered Harry a small smile, but Ambika saw.

"Don't you even _look_ at him," she snarled, slapping Lucius harshly across the face. "What're you looking at him for? You disgusting, foul, evil, inhumane – "

"You might want to reconsider who you're calling inhumane," Harry snapped. He saw Snape watching him out of the corner of his eye.

"You poor thing," Persephone crooned, leaving the group and reaching to stroke his hair with a bejeweled hand. "Would you like to tell me what happened this summer? Somewhere private, just you and me."

Harry pulled back form her touch. "No," he snapped. "I don't want to tell you what happened. But let him go."

"Don't you realize that he's dangerous?" Ursula Urteil looked down her wide nose at him, tugging again at Lucius's collar, which Harry could see glowed a silver translucent. Lucius saw Harry looking at it and pulled back his sleeves, where two more glowing bands encircled his wrists. Harry looked away.

"Harry's right, Ursula," he heard Dumbledore say behind him. "He's no danger to anyone now."

"Let's go, Potter," Snape muttered. He cast a disparaging look in Lucius's direction, but Harry avoided his gaze and instead followed Snape to his office.

"Set aside your emotions, Potter, clear your head," Snape drawled. "Remain standing, it's so much more satisfying to see you topple to the ground that way."

Harry clenched his teeth. He couldn't very well relax like this, but prolonged periods with Snape never were relaxing. He took a deep breath, trying to forget everything. But he kept thinking back to Lucius, the glowing restraints around his throat and wrists….

"_Potter_."

Harry opened his eyes. "But you haven't done anything yet."

"You're clenching your fists," Snape pointed out coolly.

Harry unclenched his hands and stuck them in his pockets. Nothing, he would think of nothing at all. Nothing except for Lucius, who plagued him even in his thoughts of nothing.

"Legilimens!"

No, thinking only of Lucius had merely guaranteed that both he and Snape would relive his summer. Kidnapped, kept in a cold barren room. The pit. Lucius teaching him dark arts, the mice. Oh god, the mice. Then an unfamiliar scene, out-of-focus.

_"I promised him I would kill him if he screamed," Voldemort mused. "Didn't I?"_

_ "Please, my Lord, spare him," Lucius asked, emerging from behind a tree. "He is powerful, he will be loyal. He will become your successor. And you would be known as the leader so great you captured most powerful opponent and made him your most powerful ally. Spare him."_

_ Voldemort regarded him amusedly. "You care about him."_

_ Lucius ducked his head. "That's irrelevant."_

_ "No, it's not. It could very well work in my favor." He pocketed his wand. "Leave him. I will be in touch shortly."_

_ "Yes, my Lord," Lucius answered. Voldemort strode away, and Lucius picked up his body gingerly. _Harry winced_. His face was scratched and bloody; his left arm hung limp and swelled. "Oh Harry," Lucius breathed, lips barely moving. "You deserve better."_

_ He healed the scratches and repaired his arm as much as magic would allow him. "The Dark Lord's right. Of course he's right, he saw most of it. Just most." He lowered his body back to the ground. "Hopefully you'll be able to find your way home." A soft, uncharacteristic kiss, and he was gone._

---

"Potter, get _up_." A heavy boot prodded him his ribs. Harry scrambled to get off the cold floor, and Snape glared down at him. "_Why_ are you wasting my time? Really, I'd like to know. Because you didn't even _try _to fight back. How do you expect to learn Occlumency like this?"

"I'm sorry, sir, I lost focus."

Snape gave him a look that clearly said they both knew he was an idiot. "Your inability to focus is not only irritating, but a security risk for everyone around you. You will learn Occlumency, and if I'm am to teach you, you will keep your concentration. Am I understood?"

"I thought you said I'd make a good Death Eater," Harry said spitefully. "So why worry about being a security risk if I'm joining Voldemort anyway?"

Snape pressed his lips into a thin line and did not answer. "Legilimens!"

That was just unfair, Harry thought bitterly. He struggled to keep Snape from seeing his memories – Uncle Vernon hitting him, Dudley eating cake on his birthday while Harry went hungry, Cho yelling at him in front of the entire coffee shop, Lucius slapping him, holding him down –

"Stop it!" It felt like a violent shove, and when he opened his eyes, his wand was out and Snape had only just avoided a red beam of light.

His black eyes searched Harry's face. "You know how to cast Cruciatus?"

Harry blinked. "I… I didn't mean to." So that's what the light had been.

"Stupid boy, that wasn't the question. Something Lucius taught you, no doubt?"

"Yeah."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "Get out of my office."

"You want me to be a spy," Harry said suddenly.

"I said no such thing."

"You did!" Harry answered hotly. "First I would make a good Death Eater, then I have to learn Occlumency anyway because of these security risk you won't tell me about. First it was _you_ playing the double agent, but now Voldemort's suspicious and you need a new mole, _me_."

Snape was watching him impassively. "Very good, maybe not all hope is lost. However, I should remind you that I answer to Professor Dumbledore, and the decisions made are his alone. I personally have no interest in where you stand."

"And the Cruciatus?" Harry began.

Snape cut him off. "I don't believe in coddling like Albus does."

How was he supposed to reply to that? "Thank you, sir," he finally said, and left Snape's office.


	4. Rendevouz

A/N – My reviewers _still_ rock, no surprise there. And you get another chapter for your coolness. Yay. Enjoy the show, kiddies.

(And **TheSecretCharacter**, sorry I didn't answer this before. But yes, it's still Lucius/Harry slash. The relationships mentioned are his platonic ones.)

---

"So, Potter, did it hurt?" Draco dropped easily into the chair beside him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry answered shortly, keeping his eyes on his plate.

"The Dark Mark, don't play dumb." Draco held a bowl out to him. "Raspberries?"

"No thanks." Draco shrugged and popped one in his mouth. "Why're you so nice all of a sudden?" Harry asked suspiciously.

"Now that you've got the Mark you're a kindred spirit," Draco said with a grin. Harry looked at him sharply, and he explained, "I haven't got mine yet, though. Father said I will after I finish school. So it's only a matter of time." He smiled wryly.

"You just _accept_ it?" Harry asked.

"Every Malfoy since the thirteen hundreds has been involved in the Dark Arts," he said proudly. "Why taint the lineage?" Harry remained quiet, instead taking a raspberry from Draco's bowl.

"Oh, for god's sake, _talk_ to me," Draco snapped. "I'm trying so hard not to hate you. It's more trouble than it's worth, really. But I don't need you to play my villain anymore."

"_I'm_ the villain?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Of course you were. The Boy-Who-Lived, Hogwarts's own celebrity and golden boy, favored by every teacher but Professor Snape, and filled with righteous indignation over my existence." He raised an eyebrow and Harry would've sworn for a second that it was Lucius he was sitting next to. "Surely even you can understand how that got irritating."

"First, I'm not favored by anyone," Harry answered evenly. "Second, you made yourself no easier to live with."

Draco took a breath. "I know. Let's start over." He held out a pale, slender hand. "Hi, I'm Draco Malfoy."

Harry shook it tentatively, but Draco gripped his right hand tightly and used his other to push up Harry left sleeve and gauze. The Dark Mark was bold and grotesque against his skin. "So it's true," Draco murmured, eyes glittering. "How extraordinary."

Harry pulled his sleeve down angrily. "Not how I would describe it."

"Forget what I said about you being Hogwarts's golden boy. Oh, this is _amazing_."

"Malfoy, just _stop_." He pushed back his chair, and it scraped loudly against the stone. "I don't want to talk about it." He took Draco's bowl of raspberries and left.

He didn't know where he was planning to go, exactly. He was sick of the dungeons, they weren't allowed outside or upstairs, and as a preventive measure Professor McGonagall was sitting on the stairs talking in low, serious tones to Madam Pomfrey.

"Harry!" Lupin descended the stairs, sidestepping the two women on the bottom step.

"Hi professor," Harry said, smiling. "Raspberries?"

He took a couple gratefully. "How was your summer?" Harry asked him.

"Been fixing up Grimmauld Place." Remus rubbed his eyes wearily. "It can get overwhelming. But I did manage to finally get that wicked painting off the wall."

"Oh yeah? How?"

"By cutting out that portion of the wall entirely, tossing it in the garbage, and plastering over the hole." He smiled a bit. "But you'll have to come with me sometime. There's a few boxes, I didn't open them, that Sirius wrote your name on."

"Oh. Yeah, I'll come with you, next time you go," Harry promised.

"Good, good." Remus pushed his hair off his face. "Severus tells me he's teaching you Occlumency again?"

"You talk to Snape?"

"More a formality than anything else," Lupin assured him.

"Oh. Yeah, more Occlumency lessons. Both he and Dumbledore think I'm a security risk," he shrugged.

Lupin pursed his lips. "They're right, you know. There's going to be a war, Harry, really soon. You, of course, are a key player, but Albus can't very well discuss strategies with you when there's the possibility Lord Voldemort can learn of them through you. So you need to learn from Severus."

God, finally some reason to why he was being jerked around in every direction. He was so grateful for that he didn't even tell Lupin what an intolerable git Snape was. Instead he just promised, "I will."

---

They walked back to class together, where Lupin was to teach defense. Harry wished him luck and went to find a spare beanbag. As luck would have it, the only one left was next to Ron Weasley.

Harry resignedly dropped his bookbag next to it and sat down.

Ron looked over. "Sorry, I don't appreciate being so close to a Death Eater," he said coldly.

"Pretend I'm not here, then."

"I saw you getting all cozy with Malfoy at lunch. Are you sleeping with him too?" Ron continued.

"_He_ was getting cozy with _me_, not the other way around," Harry snapped. "Would you just get off my back? I'm not living my life by your rules."

"_My_ rules? But Harry, this is serious. Those are everyone's rules."

"Not mine." Harry looked to the front of the classroom where Lupin was getting ready, and quite deliberately avoided Ron's glare.

---

"If I start, you know, screaming in my sleep, feel free to wake me up," Harry said awkwardly as they got ready for bed.

"Mm, depends what you're screaming," Xanthus said with a wicked grin. "Nah, mate, just kidding, we will."

"_He_ won't," Justin interjected. "He'll let you carry on and listen for anything good. I'll wake you up, though."

"Thanks."

"Oh, let him sleep. Then he can tell us what the Dark Lord's got planned for him," Draco smirked. Justin went pale, and Xanthus looked at him curiously.

"Shut up, Malfoy." And he went to bed.

---

_Harry? Harry Potter. My most powerful ally. It will be soon, are you ready? Prepare yourself, it will be bloody. But so very worth it. Soon._

"_Harry_," someone above him hissed. He opened his eyes and found himself looking into the slate-gray eyes of Lucius Malfoy. He placed a hand gently over Harry's mouth and pulled him out of bed. "We need to talk. Come on." Harry disentangled their fingers, but followed him out of the dungeon.

"I shouldn't have awakened you, but I wouldn't have a chance to see you otherwise," he explained as they crossed the Great Hall. "I just felt like the letter wasn't enough."

"No," Harry agreed shortly, "it wasn't."

Lucius bent to kiss him, but Harry turned his head away. "I don't blame you for being angry with me," he said quietly. "In here."

He opened a door to a cozy room and led Harry to a pair of armchairs. He lit the fireplace behind them and sat opposite. "I don't even know where to start." Harry watched him impassively. "It wasn't an impromptu plan, to kidnap you. But the Dark Lord no longer wanted you dead, but as an ally. A successor."

"I know."

"I really wanted to hate you. You were such a gangly awkward thing only a few years prior."

"But I grew up," Harry supplied.

"You grew up quite nicely." He paused, and Harry watched how his angular features caught the firelight. "And you're powerful, so very powerful. That, to me, is even more erotic. So." He fell quiet.

"I can't trust you," Harry told him. "You lied to me so often I can't keep straight anymore what you're sincere about."

"I'll put it in simpler terms. I am first and foremost a Death Eater. That won't change. But I care about you and I'll try not to hurt you, taking Lord Voldemort's will into account."

Harry remained silent for a long time. Then he said quietly, "Okay."

Lucius pulled him into his lap, covering his jaw in kisses. Harry reached out and gently tugged the silver collar. "Ow, don't," Lucius protested. "These," he raised his wrists as well, "are a sort of tracker, and to prevent me from using dark magic. I can barely cast Expelliarmus," he scoffed. "It's a human rights violation."

Harry smiled. Still Lucius. "Isn't there some way to get them off?" he asked. "I've got my wand."

"It's not your wand you'd need, it's Ursula bloody Urteil's." He reached to smooth his hair, and Harry slipped off his lap.

"Why're you here anyway?"

"I've been long suspected of Dark Arts, of course," he began, staring into the fire, "and you first confirmed it to the Ministry a couple years ago." Harry winced. "And again when you stormed in while Dumbledore was at the manor. I deserved the rage, but not the possibility of more time in Azkaban that followed." A half-smile. "Dumbledore offered me sanction in exchange for telling him of Voldemort's plans during the war."

"And you're going to?"

"I'm sure Severus has enough Veritaserum ready for the next decade," Lucius promised. "So I'm cornered. Unless you've got an idea?" He raised an eyebrow.

"No." Harry stifled a yawn, and Lucius noticed.

"You could spend the night here," he offered.

Harry studied him. "No thanks, I'm going back to my room."

"You haven't forgiven me yet."

"Give it time." He left.

---

_Where is your weakness, Harry? Such a strong character, but surely even you have a breaking point, _Voldemort murmured. _If you are not willingly loyal to me, I will break you, Harry._

_Parents dead, godfather as well. And still you stand. But surely you could not take much more. _Harry felt him sifting through his thoughts, tried to make his mind blank but Voldemort only laughed. _We are allies now, I will learn everything about you. The Weasleys, disgrace to wizards everywhere? Perhaps. The Mudblood with the bucked teeth? Hm._

He felt a sharp pain in his temples. "Get out of my head, you monster," he thought, panicked. "No further, just leave me alone…." He tried to wake up, but his muscles refused to cooperate, he couldn't move –

_Lucius,_ Voldemort said softly._ So the feeling is mutual. How surprising. _Another sharp pain, his head was pounding…. _Of course, at the moment he is indisposed, but you know that already, don't you. _An amused tone. _I didn't realize the relationship was so sexual. But that only makes the feelings stronger, more of an advantage for me._

"Stop," Harry pleaded. "Get out of my head. Why should it matter to you?" He was shaking, he could feel it.

_Do you love him?_ Voldemort asked, mocking.

"No, stop it, goddamn you."

_Yes, you do, I see it,_ he said smugly. _Why so defensive?_

"Leave Lucius alone!"

He felt a hand clapped over his mouth and he choked. He sat up, panicked, coughing.

"Potter, _breathe_." Draco pulled back and poured him a glass of water.

"Was I - ?" He took the glass gratefully.

"Mumbling, more like, until a minute ago." Draco took a seat at the foot of Harry's bed. "They slept through it somehow," he nodded toward the other two beds. "But care to tell me what happened?"

"No," Harry answered shortly, setting the cup down. "I just want to go back to bed."

"Not yet. What the _hell_ happened between you and my father?" Draco demanded.

"What makes you think anything happened?" Harry asked, hoping his tone was convincing. "Think I'd keep the company of an elitist arrogant git like him?"

"Yeah, I do, and he's not a git," Draco answered. "First he's Lucius and not _your father_. Then you were yelling about him in your sleep. Oh, and the midnight rendezvous earlier? I was awake for that too."

"Goddamn." Draco smirked at him. "Do you just lie awake and listen to me breathe, Malfoy?"

"Not you, no. Now what happened over the summer that I'm not privy to?"

"You can ask him yourself," Harry answered, slipping on his glasses since Draco wouldn't let him sleep _now_.

"That would be fruitless, wouldn't it? Like he would admit to sleeping with Harry Potter."

Harry felt his chest tighten. "But – you – "

"Lucky guess," Draco said smoothly. "Now what else happened?"

"You're _okay_ with it?"

"I'm sure I'll be thoroughly disgusted with you shortly. Until then…?"

He was cornered, and Draco already knew the worst of it. "He kidnapped me, taught me Dark Arts. Then he took me to Voldemort and now I've got the Dark Mark."

"You sound so complacent," Draco noted. "Did you _want_ it?"

"Malfoy, right now I'm not sure what I want."

"Oh." He blinked. "You told the weasel and the Mudblood, didn't you? And that's why they're not speaking to you."

"Uh-huh."

"Poor Potty," Draco said in a sing-song tone, "hasn't got a friend in the world except my father."

"He's not my friend."

"Didn't know Gryffindors could appreciate an extended one-night stand."

"It's not – oh, forget it," Harry said angrily. "Go back to bed."

He rose. "Sweet dreams, Potty. But next time be a bit quieter about them."


	5. Chess Game

A/N – So, this thing gets updated about every two weeks more or less. At least I'm consistent in my procrastination. Sigh. :-p The next chapter for y'all, darlings. Enjoy.

---

"God, Potter, what were you _thinking_?"

"I suppose a good approximation would be _oh god if we get married I'll be Malfoy's father-in-law_," Harry answered waspishly.

Draco blinked. "Really?"

"No. I don't know what I was thinking. But I don't want to talk about it."

"You shouldn't have told me," Draco said over him. "Did you realize you're sleeping with my _father_?"

"Past tense. And no, I couldn't stomach it."

"I'll never be able to look him in the face again," Draco groaned.

Harry slammed his hand down on his trunk. "Just. Stop. Talking. Okay? I screwed up, he lied to me, I don't want to talk about it. You can go be shocked and scandalized elsewhere."

So, true to his word, Draco _had_ been thoroughly disgusted with him shortly after. The very next morning, in fact. He had oscillated between fits of seething and sullen silences for the past hour, and Harry couldn't take much more. Justin and Xanthus were already at breakfast, and Harry was getting dressed in between Draco's outbursts. He wasn't getting far, he noted, looking down at the robe on his pillow. He pulled it on hastily – before Draco could yell at him again – slipped on his shoes, and left.

---

Remus took a seat next to him at breakfast. "Hi," Harry greeted him with a weak smile. "Why're you over here?"

"You look like you need the company more than they do," Remus answered, nodding at the staff table. "Still remember your Cheering Charms?"

"It's a bit more serious than that," Harry said.

"Oh…. Chocolate?" Lupin patted down his pockets and Harry felt a smile form on his lips. "No, really, what's wrong?" He squeezed Harry's shoulder gently.

"Ron and Hermione aren't speaking to me," Harry began slowly. "And the reason, well, that's fucking with my head too. Sorry," he added, but Lupin only shrugged and motioned for him to continue. "And everybody's keeping secrets from me and they expect me to defeat Voldemort single-handedly. Dumbledore is so tied up in his own agenda, he doesn't care what I want. Even Malfoy hates me."

"I thought Malfoy hated you to begin with?"

"Well, yeah, but this is worse."

"Oh." Lupin reached to stroke Harry's hair, then restrained himself. Harry leaned in, resting his head on Lupin's shoulder. Lupin leaned back. "I think you need a break."

"It's only the third day of school."

"That's alright. You look so drained, Harry. I worry about you."

Harry glanced up at Remus: dark rings under his eyes, weathered and scarred skin, ragged clothes. And still _Lupin_ was worried about _him_. "Don't. I should stop complaining. I'll manage."

"Mm." He tousled his hair affectionately before sitting up. "I'm free to talk anytime you need to."

"Thanks, Professor."

"Remus," he corrected.

"Remus."

---

It was dusk when it began. Harry had been walking back to his room after dinner when he heard the furious shouting match that erupted on the second floor near the stairs.

"You are being _ridiculous_. You can't shelter him much longer, you know. He's prophesized either to kill or be killed, and he doesn't have a damn chance if you insist on teaching him only innocent harmless spells." Snape stormed down the stairs, shouting over his shoulder, and overlooked Harry entirely as he pressed himself against the wall.

"I know you're dying for a go at playing defense teacher," the unusually harsh tone of Lupin's snapped, "but Harry can defeat Lord Voldemort with light spells." He followed Snape, jaw clenched.

"Remus, we both know that's only possible if the Dark Lord duels fairly, and with light spells. Do you think that's _likely_?" Snape threw open the door and Remus stalked after him.

"I think you're making excuses so you can demonstrate the Dark Arts yourself."

Harry followed the two quietly down the lawn. "I think Potter already knows more about dark arts than you think him capable of."

Remus stopped briefly. "Why do you think that?"

"It's not my place to say," Snape answered coolly. _Thank you, Snape_, Harry thought, then immediately felt like a traitor for it.

Remus pressed his lips together and strode faster toward the Forbidden Forest. "Don't you think it's vital, Severus, to tell us these things? I respect his privacy, but if he's already dabbling in dark arts…." Lupin searched his face. "What do you know about the boy that I don't?"

"He's a Death Eater," Snape said harshly.

"You're lying," Remus spat. "Why would Harry – "

"He's right," Harry spoke up. Both men spun around to look at him. "Or at least, close. I've got the Mark," he told Lupin, "but I'm not sure where my loyalty lies."

"Oh Harry," Lupin breathed. He seemed at a loss for words, but reached to hug him. Harry pulled back.

"Don't you think I deserve a say in the matter?" he asked coldly. "You two can bicker as long as you like, but ultimately it comes down to what I want."

"Harry, we only want you to make an _informed_ decision," Remus told him softly.

"Quit _coddling_ him," Snape interjected. "Potter, you are a self-centered brat, and with any luck and that attitude you'll get yourself killed."

"With any luck." He turned and ran into the forest.

The sun had barely set, but the trees blocked out the lingering light. It didn't matter; he had nowhere to go anyway. He kept running, ran until he was sure he had lost Remus and Snape, lost sight of the castle, lost himself. He pulled his wand from his pocket. "Apparatum 12 Grimmauld Place."

He reappeared in the living room and dropped onto the nearest couch. _Breathe, Harry. Don't think, just breathe._ He closed his eyes, felt his chest rise, fall, rise….

_No more sulking. No more feeling sorry for yourself, no more regrets_, he thought sternly. _Cooperate, listen to them...._

_No_, another part of his mind interrupted. _They don't know half of what's happened to me, Lucius was right, but – _

No more sulking.

He got off the couch. "I want to be productive," he said aloud. How? What would benefit him the most? "Come on, Harry, let's go learn Occlumency."

Sirius had no grand library like he had grown accustomed to over the summer. But he had a bookcase, and Harry found _250 Magic Tricks Everyone Should Know_, with a section devoted to Occlumency. He lit the candles and settled onto the couch, book in his lap.

---

Two hours had passed when he heard a _whoosh_ from the fireplace. The flames flickered emerald and Snape, of all people, appeared.

"You made Remus cry," he informed Harry curtly as he brushed off his robes.

Harry shrugged. "I'm not about to go back and apologize now," he said coldly. "Why're you here? And how did you find me?" he added as an afterthought.

"Lucky guess." Snape looked around disdainfully. "Couldn't you have picked somewhere a bit less cluttered?"

"Professor Lupin's been cleaning up," Harry explained. "I'm not making you stay."

"_You're_ not. Dumbledore is." His lip curled. "He said that if you weren't in school you could at least master Occlumency. And that is why I'm here."

Harry held out his book. "I was managing fine on my own."

Snape sneered. "Despite what Miss Granger thinks, not everything can be learned out of a book." He tossed it aside. "_Legilimens_!"

Not fair, not fair at all. He struggled not to let Snape access his thoughts. It was like trying to stop a wave: it was overwhelming and only left him exhausted. But when Snape lifted the charm, he was pleased to find he wasn't in a heap on the floor, but only gripping an armrest of the worn couch. "Well?"

"Beginner's luck."

"So… I did good?"

"Better," Snape corrected, and looked like it pained him to admit it. "But still amateur," he added. "_Very_ amateur. We'll continue working until your level is at least standard."

"I'm ready."

---

It was nearly midnight when Snape pushed his pair off his face and put his wand away. "You'll do."

"So we're done?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"For the evening. Go to bed, Potter."

"Are you staying?"

He rubbed his eyes. "I'm here as long as you are. The headmaster doesn't seem to believe it vital potions classes continue at this point in time. Nymphadora will no doubt _completely_ bollocks up Healing Potions, and Lupin has probably forgotten the nuances of a Curse-Deflecting Solution, but Professor Dumbledore felt I would be more beneficial here." The resentment was tangible in his tone. "However, it makes no difference to you. Bed. Now."

Harry narrowed his eyes and stalked upstairs. Remus had recommended a break, and Snape was _not_ part of his idea of one. But he had promised no more feeling sorry for himself, and hours of Occlumency had exhausted him anyway. He found what he assumed was a guest bedroom and was asleep before he'd even pulled the covers over himself.

---

That night he dreamt of Hogwarts, but not as he knew it. Death Eaters lurking in the foliage, walls crumbling from stray curses. And somehow, looking at that scene, he knew everyone he cared about was dead. Everyone except Lucius, who stood between him and the Dark Lord. He turned to look, but Voldemort grabbed his wrist and both of them disappeared.

_Where are you, Harry? _Voldemort asked quietly. _I can't feel you. No secrets, remember, we are now allies, are we not?"_

"Stop it, damn you. Just leave me alone."

Voldemort laughed. _You're needed back at Hogwarts, Harry.... We are ready for you. We are at Hogwarts, it will be amazing and you wouldn't want to miss it. Who shall I leave for you? The Mudblood? The redhead? Not Dumbledore, he is mine.... Who else, Harry, has wronged you? _A pause_. Very nearly everyone. Well, no matter, you will be in better company soon. Return to Hogwarts, Harry. We're waiting_.

He woke up gasping for air, both scar and Dark Mark burning. "Professor!" He ran down the hallway, descended the staircase. "Professor Snape!" His heart was pounding, the Dark Mark was calling him, he felt dizzy.

"For god's sake, _what_?" Snape was recumbent on the couch, watching him. Even though it must have been three or four in the morning, Harry was sure he had been lying awake. "Potter, what _is_ it?"

"Voldemort's at Hogwarts."

Snape was up and had taken the Floo powder before his sentence was complete. "Are you coming?"

"I don't want to."

"How amazingly selfish of you."

Harry clenched his teeth and took a handful of Floo powder from the offered jar. "Hogwarts!" He stepped into the fireplace and was gone.

They stumbled out of a fireplace in the kitchen. A few silent house elves stared up at him in the weak light.

"Um, hi," he said awkwardly. "Where now?" He turned to look at Snape, who pushed him in the direction of the doorway before striding ahead of him. "Where are we _going_?" Harry demanded.

"Why, to arrange a welcoming party for the Dark Lord," Snape snarled. "To Dumbledore, where would you think?"

"I don't want to see Dumbledore."

"You haven't got a choice in the matter," he said silkily.

"You're just as bad as everyone," Harry accused him. "I'm _sick_ of being manipulated and – "

Snape slapped a hand over Harry's mouth and marched him through the Great Hall to the staff rooms.

He rapped smartly on a carved pine door. "Headmaster!" Harry pushed his hand away, but Snape grabbed his wrist instead.

The door swung open and Dumbledore peered at them over his spectacles. "Severus," he greeted warmly. "Harry. Come in."

There was a card table in the center of the room, a chess game half-finished. They sat around it, Dumbledore fiddling with the white queen. "What brings you here at such an hour?"

"Mr. Potter believes that the Dark Lord is back," Snape said gravely.

Dumbledore pushed the pieces back into their positions. "Why do you say that?" he asked Harry, watching him closely.

"He said so," Harry explained. "In a dream. Well, not a dream," he struggled to explain. "But… Legilimency. He said that the Death Eaters are here, everything's ready, he's just waiting for me."

"I see." Dumbledore stroked his beard. "Severus?"

"He doesn't trust me any longer, Headmaster," Snape objected. "If I were to rejoin the Death Eaters I would be killed on sight."

Dumbledore nodded. "And I refuse to send Harry. But go wake Lucius if he hasn't already left. Tell Minerva to be ready to inform the students."

"Yes, sir." He left, looking grim.

"Harry, I'd like you to stay here with me."

"You're not going to do anything?" Harry asked incredulously.

"I think the wisest thing to do at the moment is remain with you." He pushed a pawn forward.

Harry did the same. "Why? Don't trust me?"

"I trust you a great deal. And I wish the feeling were mutual." Another pawn.

"Oh." He moved his bishop forward.

"I understand why you're angry with me." He pushed the first pawn out of harm's way. "I would be too, if I were you."

Harry remained quiet, instead moving his bishop.

"You're acting rashly," Dumbledore warned, taking the bishop.

"Don't patronize me." A knight.

"Merely advising." Another pawn. "Harry, are you really joining Lord Voldemort?"

"The alternative is being killed by him." He moved his queen to the opposite side of the board.

Dumbledore pushed it back a space for him. "I would have taken it with my bishop otherwise," he explained.

"Oh…. Thanks." They played in silence until Harry captured his bishop. "He says he wants me as his successor."

"No doubt he would."

"But why me? I'm nobody special."

Dumbledore studied him amusedly. "You're probably tired of hearing this, but you have amazing powers. Lord Voldemort has realized that immortality is no longer possible for him. So instead his legacy will continue through you."

"So he's using me too." He moved a knight back to safety.

"Yes." He moved his own knight out. "No doubt you resent me for the same?" Harry only nodded slightly. "I apologize if you feel manipulated," he said quietly, "but such arrangements benefit the greater good."

Harry looked up. "At my expense?"

"At Voldemort's. I will not let him have you, Harry. I suppose I am protecting you from your own judgment and pride. Hopefully you're able to forgive me."

Harry took a pawn, and they were tied. "I guess."

"I'm so very glad to hear it." Another length of silence as they played.

"Why does Voldemort hate you?" Harry asked, taking a knight.

Dumbledore flinched at the loss. "He had such potential as a student," he answered, moving his other bishop. "I encouraged him, of course. I suppose I let him have too much of a free reign regarding his education, because his interest in the Dark Arts began at only thirteen." He rubbed his temples, looking at something far away that wasn't there. "I knew, I tried to limit him, but he grew to resent me. He felt I was overbearing, and it only encouraged him to become much further immersed in dark arts. He hated my steadfast refusal to perform dark magic, and I hated his obsession with it. And I suppose now my very existence limits his dream of absolute power. Perhaps I didn't provide the guidance he needed. Perhaps I failed him as a teacher and role model. But I hope not to make the same mistake twice."

"Oh." Harry picked up his queen, regarding the board. "Where can I go?" he mused.

Dumbledore gave him a half-smile. "Anywhere you'd like."


	6. The Mechanics of Sympathetic Magic

A/N – Oi, I don't think I've even got an excuse for how late this is. Finals were, what, two weeks ago? Yeah. But since then, I've got nothing. Sorry, guys. My deepest apologies. Enjoy the belated chapter.

-

The Dark Mark had gone numb, but his scar burned, proof Voldemort was near. Occlumency lessons meant he no longer heard him or felt his emotions, but he caught glimpses of a scene in the Forbidden Forest. White masks, serious conversations in low tones.

_"Leave Dumbledore for me," he heard Voldemort instruct them. "Kill Severus if you see him." _

_"He's aware of the risk, my Lord." Lucius collar still intact. "He met with Dumbledore this morning. Harry Potter was with him." _

_"Harry," Voldemort breathed. "Is he still loyal, Lucius?" _

_"No, my Lord." _

_Voldemort clenched his fists. "I no longer care who kills him, but see to it that he's dead before we're finished. Killed on sight. If you see him and allow him to live, it will be you who suffers."_

Harry's breath caught in his throat and he collapsed back onto his bed.

It was around ten in the morning, and he had been just about ready to fall back asleep. His roommates, and everyone else, was off being briefed on the situation. No doubt he would know when it let out, because there would be chaos in the halls. The Hufflepuffs would probably start crying. He rolled over and buried his head in his pillow.

There was a gentle tap on his door. "Harry? May I come in?"

Dumbledore bloody _again_? "If you want."

He pushed the door open. "Harry, I would appreciate it if you joined everyone? You're vital to this, you know."

Harry sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I saw Voldemort. He's in the forest, with all his Death Eaters." He pushed a hand through his hair. "He's going to kill you himself. He wants to," he corrected. "And me and Snape are supposed to be killed on sight. There might be more, but that's all that I saw."

Dumbledore regarded him, sad but calculating. "Then I must ask you to remain elsewhere for the time being. Professor Snape as well."

"Grimmauld Place?"

"Exactly."

"And what about you, Professor?"

He smiled. "I must remain here. But I'll manage. Pack what you need, Harry, and I'll tell Severus to do the same. You'll leave within an hour."

"Yes, sir." He went to pack.

-

"An indefinite amount of time to spend with you alone. What more can I ask for?" Snape was on his knees, stacking boxes in the fireplace. It's not nearly enough to have had babysat you last night. Now I have perhaps a month or more to be in your presence. I'm truly blessed."

Harry handed him the mortar and pestle he had been reaching for. "You can stay here if you'd like," he offered. "Get yourself killed once you step in front of a window."

Snape looked back at him. "Potter, the windows are being cemented up, did nobody tell you?"

Harry blinked. "No, nobody did."

"Ah. Hand me that – no, not upside-down, you idiot."

This wasn't going to be easy.

-

"Potter!"

Harry looked up from making his bed. Snape had icily offered him Sirius's room, but he just gently closed the door and returned to his spare instead. "What?" he called back.

"Come move your damn boxes!"

He descended the narrow staircase. "I didn't _bring_ any damn boxes," he snapped. "Those are all yours."

"In the parlor. I need to put my equipment in the basement but I can't get around these."

"Oh, you can go to hell," Harry muttered.

"_Pardon_?" Snape snarled.

"Nothing." He entered the parlor. "What are you talking about – Oh."

A pile of boxes was right in the center of the room, _Harry _written on each one in Sirius's messy scrawl.

"Never thought of you godfather as a packrat," Snape mentioned. "But I daresay even his judgment is better than to leave you anything of importance."

"Just. Shut. Up," Harry snapped. "Help me move these to my room."

"Why should I, after such animosity?"

Harry gritted his teeth. "Because they'll be out of your way in half the time. And," he added reluctantly, "I'll help you set up the basement. A quarter of the time than if we worked alone."

"Because I have such pressing matters to attend to," Snape said coldly.

"Well, you must, otherwise you wouldn't brought all this. What're you making?"

"Veritaserum, primarily."

"For Lucius?"

"For any captured Death Eater." Snape studied him. "You're still on his side, aren't you?"

"Voldemort's? No."

"Not him. Lucius."

"Oh."

Snape lifted a box, and Harry did the same. "You didn't answer my question."

"You wouldn't like the answer," Harry said evenly as they crossed the room, to the stairwell.

"When will you admit that he's dangerous and you shouldn't associate with him?" He stormed up the stairs.

"He wouldn't hurt me." Harry followed, resisting the childish impulse to stomp.

Snape gave him a backwards glance. "Potter, your naïveté still amazes me."

"Why are you so cynical?" Harry snapped.

"Because I have known longer than you've been alive." Snape dropped the box inside Harry's doorway. He pushed it against the wall, teeth clenched. "He's charming, and he'll gladly exploit it. He will use anyone to achieve his own ends."

"Just like all Slytherins." Harry pushed past him and back down the staircase.

"Just like most Slytherins," Snape corrected.

"Maybe I'm different to him." Back to the parlor.

"I doubt it."

"Well, you're wrong," Harry said shortly. The conversation ended there, and they continued to move the boxes in an angry silence.

-

The boxes were moved and Snape's crates unpacked silently. By the time they had finished Harry already wanted to be back at Hogwarts, away from Snape.

His temples pounded. "Can I go now?"

Snape was already bent over a cauldron. "It would relieve me immensely if you did."

What a stupid git. Harry stormed back upstairs, seething, temples throbbing….

_"They are gone, my Lord." An unfamiliar voice. "Harry and Severus both." He cringed. "It cannot be a coincidence." _

_"No, it cannot," Voldemort agreed. "Two of the people I specifically targeted, gone into hiding. But how could they know?" _

_A second voice – Bellatrix's, he realized. "Potter no doubt has expected it." _

_"Of course… But Severus?" They were silent. "I believe that somebody is acting as an informant. But who has the motivation?" He looked around the semicircle of masked Death Eaters. "Who here is not loyal? Who is sympathetic to Severus, to Harry?" His grip on his wand tightened. "Lucius?" _

_"No, my Lord, I did not – " _

_"Liar," Voldemort spat. "I know of your feelings toward the boy." _

_"My Lord, that is irrelevant !" _

_"Not only are you useless to me in your current state, but you are a traitor. I am so very disappointed in you." _

_"If you do not believe me..." He knelt, kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes, and let his head drop to his chest. _

_"Legilimens!" _

_Harry saw Lucius's thoughts, feelings. He saw his own summer once more, through Lucius's eyes. Voldemort withdrew and Lucius stood shakily. "Very well," Voldemort murmured. "But to remind you not to stray…."_

_"My Lord, please – " _

_"Crucio!" _

Lucius crumpled, and Harry's throat caught. Pain, sharp splinters of pain, all along his torso, his limbs. His vision swam, he couldn't breathe, and he fainted.

-

He felt himself be picked up and dropped unceremoniously onto a couch. "Professor Snape?"

"Is there anyone else here?" he snapped.

Yes, definitely Snape. He felt a glass pressed into his hand, and downed it. It was fiery and bitter and after he swallowed he had a coughing fit. "What _was_ that?"

"An alertness potion mixed with rum." He offered a hand reluctantly, and Harry accepted as he got up, shaking from adrenaline. "Now what happened?"

Harry pushed his hand through his hair. "Sometimes I see what Voldemort does," he explained. "That's how I knew they were targeting you, he said so to the Death Eaters."

Snape studied him, dark eyes unsure. "Thank you, Mr. Potter."

"Yeah. But they found out, somehow that me and you aren't there. And Voldemort accused Lucius of being a spy and he did Legilimency and saw that he's not. But he did the Cruciatus anyway. But… it was like I felt it too. Not as intense," he decided. "But it still hurt."

"As though the pain were halved?" Snape suggested.

"…Yeah. What happened?"

Snape returned to the basement, and Harry followed curiously. "Grind those." He pointed to a bag of salamander tails.

"Aren't you going to tell me?"

"Yes, Potter, but you could be useful while I am." He handed him the mortar and pestle, and started mincing mint leaves. "It's called sympathetic magic, what happened. Where a portion of the curse – or even an innocent charm, it hasn't got to be dark magic – is absorbed by a second person, one whom has strong emotional ties to the first." He pushed aside the minced leaves and started a new pile.

"Like my mother did?" Harry suggested.

"No, although it's similar. But sympathetic magic is spontaneous and cannot be learned. It's rare, enough so that you're only the second person I've encountered ever to experience it."

"If it's so rare, how do you know so much about it?" Harry poured the powdered tails into a vial.

"It doesn't matter to you."

"I'm just trying to talk to you, don't get all defensive," Harry answered, irritated. Snape handed him another bag of tails wordlessly.

They worked in silence for what seemed like forever. "Dumbledore was the first," Snape said finally.

Harry blinked. "What? Oh."

"It was twenty years ago, when I was still loyal to the Dark Lord." He hadn't looked up from his cutting board. "Dumbledore knew, although he'd suspected it for several years prior. That would've been my last year there, he didn't trust me around the students. I was willing to sacrifice my job for Voldemort."

"But…you're still there."

"Your powers of observation remain unparalleled," Snape said dryly. "But don't interrupt."

"Sorry."

"But concurrently, Lord Voldemort thought – wrongly – that I was sympathetic to Dumbledore, since I had orchestrated no attacks at Hogwarts." He pushed another pile of leaves aside and rinsed the knife. "If Voldemort knew – even merely thought – that you were a spy for Dumbledore, you were killed." He rearranged the knives idly, still not making eye contact. "He found me alone in the Forbidden Forest one night, and cornered me. Dumbledore had followed me, assuming I was meeting with the Dark Lord. I was in reality only taking a walk, but…. I'll take those now, Potter, I need a coarse powder, not particles unseen in macroscopic conditions."

"Oh." Harry handed him the mortar sheepishly.

"So Voldemort cast the Killing Curse, but it didn't hit anyone really. It kind of…spread out." He was focused on a beaker in front of him, staring into it intently. "It hurt. A lot. And I felt exhausted, drained. But I lived, as did Dumbledore. Obviously." A half-smirk. "I felt – feel – indebted to him for that. And that's why until recently I was a spy for him."

"I didn't know that."

"Of course you didn't," he snapped. "I've never _told_ anyone before."

And the moment of quiet understanding was over. "Do you need me to do anything else?"

"You would be most useful just out of my sight," Snape told him, leaning over his cauldron once more. "But do tell me if anything happens."

"Yes, sir." He ascended the staircase, but when he reached the top, he looked back at Snape, just for a moment, as though seeing him for the first time.


	7. Open Warfare

A/N - Yay, happy Valentine's Day! To commemorate, let's have a chapter of Las Consecuencias Thanks to my, mm, two fantastic reviewers last chapter.

The story's almost over, I should warn y'all. This is the seventh chapter of nine, and I think I'd like to post chapters eight and nine together whenever those get typed up. So. Yeah. But enjoy the chapter.

-

_"Miss Urteil," Voldemort purred, "pleasure to meet you at last." He offered a skeletal hand, and she shrunk back in disgust. "Now, no need to be shy. It's an honor you could be here. First female Minister in how long?" _

_"A century," she answered proudly. _

_"My, what an accomplishment..." He reached casually into her pocket, withdrawing a wand. She struggled to pull away, but was held stationary by invisible bones. "It is my belief, however - " he pocketed the wand " - that women like yourself should learn their place in society." _

_"My place is to govern this country and protect it from monsters like you," she spat, dark eyes glittering. _

_"Well, you seem to be doing a lamentable job," he said silkily. "Kill her. And then we locate Dumbledore." _

"Professor!"

It was the first instance in a week to break the monotony. He had to tell Snape, to go back and warn Dumbledore. Had to. "Professor!"

He threw open the cellar door, taking the steps three at a time. "Dumbledore's in trouble."

Snape looked over his shoulder. "Don't be ridiculous, he can manage himself. Always has."

"No, you don't _understand_," Harry insisted. "They have the Minister, they took her wand. They were going to kill her, they probably just did, and now they're going to find Dumbledore!"

Snape wiped his hands on a rag. "Nevertheless you are not allowed back."

"So you're just going to let him _die_?"

"As I said before, he can handle himself."

"He's outnumbered thirty to one and he doesn't even know about it. I'm leaving." He turned and ran up the steps.

"_Potter_. I forbid you to go. Dumbledore does as well."

"You can both thank me later," Harry called back, entering the living room and taking a jar off the mantle.

"I swear to god - "

He took a handful of Floo powder. "Headmaster's office, Hogwarts!" His voice drowned out the rest of Snape's threat, and he was gone.

He caught his balance just before he would've fallen in a heap on the hearth. Then a second later, someone shoved him from behind. "Goddammit, _move_," Snape growled.

"You didn't have to follow me, you know."

"Yes, I did. Headmaster's orders."

"Where is he?" Harry glanced around the room. "Oh my god," he said weakly. "The windows."

"I _told_ you they were being sealed up." He ran a finger around the rectangular outline of the concrete where the windows used to be. "We can discuss this later. At the moment - "

"Ow," Harry gasped, clasping a hand to his throbbing scar.

"Exactly," Snape said grimly, opening a cabinet. "Come here."

"Why?"

"Now is not the time for questions," he said through clenched teeth. He removed a vial, filled with gold sparkles, from a shelf and unscrewed the lid. "I advise you to hold your breath."

"Not until you explain what you're doing."

"Fine, inhale it then, and burn a hole through your lungs." He tilted the vial over Harry while gripping his shoulder. Harry obediently held his breath as gold flakes were shaken from the glass. He felt an icy drop where each touched, and it spread until he was cold all over. He looked at Snape. "_Now_ will you explain?"

"Pixie dust. Complete protection from being sensed, including the ability to walk through doors and the like. It lasts ten minutes at most, so act quickly."

"_Me_? I don't know what to do."

"You came without a plan. Stunning." Snape took a few small bottles from the shelf and tucked them into a pocket of his robes. "We need to find Dumbledore." He steered Harry toward the door and pushed him right through it.

Harry blinked. "Wow." But he recovered from the shock when he saw a dark figure out of the corner of his eye, and whirled around.

"Dolohov," Snape supplied, following his gaze. "Death Eater."

Harry took his wand out, aimed it, when Snape snatched it from his fingers. "Poor form. And we haven't got time, Mr. Potter." They ran past Dolohov and down the staircase.

Already the scars of battle on Hogwarts were evident: the chandelier in the entrance hall was shattered, and in the Great Hall he could see that the staff table was cracked in two. Snape didn't stop to examine the surroundings, but continued to the staff quarters.

They passed through the door of Dumbledore's room, to find him kneeling on the ground head bowed and hands clasped, murmuring inaudibly. Snape fished out the tiny bottles and handed one to Harry. Pepper-Up Potion, he realized as he downed it. The coldness of the pixie dust was washed away and he knew he was visible again.

"Headmaster," Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore looked up. "Severus, Harry…. I apologize, I did not hear you enter." He pushed himself to his feet. "Why are you here against my wishes?"

"It's my fault," Harry said quickly. "Professor Snape just followed me. But I have to warn you, sir, Voldemort's looking for you. You need to hide."

Dumbledore raised his bushy white eyebrows. "I do believe I'm needed on the grounds with everyone else."

"_No_," he said emphatically. "You need to hide."

"And where do you suggest?" he asked.

Harry closed his eyes, thinking. Despite its size, Hogwarts didn't have many crannies the Death Eaters wouldn't search. "How about," he said slowly, "the Chamber of Secrets?"

Dumbledore pressed his lips together tightly. "You are sure this isn't ill-advised, Harry?"

"I _saw_ him, Professor. I heard him. He's going to kill you if he finds you."

"Very well. But I still must ask you both not to leave the castle walls. I don't wish to lose either of you."

"Yes, sir."

"Good day to you both." And he vanished.

Harry was left standing at the spot where Dumbledore had stood. "Well, I need to go get something," he told Snape, reaching for the door.

"Your invisibility cloak?" he suggested dryly.

Harry blinked. "You know…?"

"Stupid boy, of course I do." Snape produced the vial of pixie dust from his robes and shook it over Harry. "_Never_ go anywhere in this castle unprotected," he warned.

"Thank you," he muttered as the icy feeling spread along his skin again.

"You're going to find the Dark Lord?"

"Anyone. It doesn't matter." He waited. "You're going to let me?"

"I don't believe in coddling," Snape said shortly. "Now _go_ before it wears off."

And so he did.

-

He was crouched behind a bush, trying hard not to breathe. It was open warfare, madness. Out of the corner of his eye, a flash of green light, and a thud. He couldn't breathe.

He gasped for air, leaning back against the wall. His scar burned, and he ran a fingers along it, expecting blood. But his hand came back clean. Then the Dark Mark flashed white-hot and he fainted.

-

"Dumbledore. Of all the places to find you." Voldemort stood in the center of the Chamber, wand gripped tightly.

"Tom. What brings you here?" Dumbledore's wand was at his side, his knuckles white.

"I have quite a history with the place, you must remember." He looked around casually. "It seems like such a convenient location for my Death Eaters; I rather like the idea. And if you are the only obstacle, well." He raised his wand.

"You cannot kill me, Tom."

"Of course I can. Avada Kedavra!"

Dumbledore snapped his fingers and disappeared, and the jet of light hit a column. It crumbled and Dumbledore reappeared atop the rubble. "No, you can't. That is not my fate."

"To hell with fate," Voldemort growled. "Why do you stand there, so calm and confident? Don't you fear me?"

"No." Dumbledore stepped down from the pile. "Nor will I kill you. That's not your fate either."

"This is what separates us, Dumbledore," Voldemort spat. "This is why I am the most powerful, feared wizard in the world, and you," he said with a laugh, "you are a schoolteacher." He circled Dumbledore, twirling his wand through his fingers. "You bow to fate. I change it."

"I hope that more separates us than that."

"No, there essentially isn't." His eyes searched Dumbledore's face for weakness. "Does that scare you?"

"Not in the least. Choice, as I have told you before, distinguish a man beyond all. We have, obviously, made very different choices. And that is why I am _nothing_ like you."

"Noble," Voldemort sneered, circling closer. "Well, if that doesn't scare you, does this?" He pressed his wand to Dumbledore's chest.

"Yes."

"Good." He raked sharp fingernails down Dumbledore's cheek. "Avada Kedavra!"

The light grazed Dumbledore's chest and he fell to the floor, smacking his head on the crude stones.

-

Harry fell to his knees, grabbing the bush's meager branches to keep from falling face-first into the mud. Dumbledore was dead, dead on following his advice. Stupid. He couldn't cry. Wanted to, needed to, couldn't. Goddamn.

He looked up when bits of stone showered him. Death Eaters were aiming curses at the castle walls and the filled-in windows. So they had gotten through. Goddamn everything.

A red flash caught his attention, and he whipped around in time to see Ron crumple after being hit with a Cruciatus. Pettigrew retreated, wheezes interspersed with laughter.

He had to risk it. Ron was lying vulnerable on the blood-stained grass…. His blood? Yes, he was bleeding from the mouth, and there was a gash on his forehead. Maybe, Harry thought with a wry smile, it would leave a scar. He wrapped the invisibility cloak more tightly around himself and dashed to help his friend.

"Ron?" he murmured. "Are you okay?"

His eyes fluttered open, looking around, bewildered. "Harry? Where are you? Oh my god."

"No, you're fine, I've got my cloak." He touched Ron's shoulder to demonstrate. "Can you get up?"

"Ah, yeah." He struggled to his feet and Harry followed him back to the castle.

"It's not safe here," he warned. "Death Eaters."

"There's nowhere else to go," Ron argued. "Out there, in here, what difference does it make?" He pushed his hair back, and stared at his fingers in horror when they came back covered in blood. "Am I alright?"

"Do you feel alright?"

"…No." He descended the stairs carefully, gripping the gnarled wooden banister. "So whose side are you on?" he asked bitterly. "Still have the Mark?"

"I'm not with them anymore," Harry answered evenly.

"And how about Malfoy? Are you still _with_ him?"

Harry blinked. "I don't know. We've both been kind of busy, Ron, if it slipped your notice."

"You still _want_ to be." Accusingly.

"Yes, I do."

"I was hoping you'd come to your sense. Guess not." He strode ahead of Harry angrily.

"Ron, be _careful_," Harry hissed. "There's probably Death Eaters around."

"I thought we could _trust_ them. They won't hurt you, if you slut around with people like Malfoy."

"Only some of us are like that," a voice in the shadows drawled. The figure stepped forward - Dolohov was grinning broadly. "Of course not _all_ students are outside being killed. Some of them choose to stay indoors as well." He flicked his wand. "Conculco!" His eyes scanned the hallway. "I know there's more. I _heard_ you, child. Where are you?" Crazed blue eyes, Harry couldn't look away, couldn't save Ron. "Avada Kedavra!" He hit a spot two feet left; the wall cracked and stones clattered to the ground. Dolohov growled. "Show yourself and I might let you live."

"Oh, _that's_ persuasive." He scurried backwards after he spoke, avoiding Dolohov's curses.

"Harry Potter, is that you?" he asked, brow furrowed.

Oh, what the hell. "Yes it is. Come find me, Dolohov, bring me back to your master."

"Oh, I will," he snarled. "Cruciatus!"

It hit Harry squarely in the chest, and he bit down to keep from vocalizing the pain. The time spent with Lucius had trained him to stay on his feet, but it still hurt like hell.

"There you are," Dolohov said in a sing-song voice. "Avada Kedavra!"

Harry turned and ran, feeling the step beneath him crumble as the curse hit it. "Avada Kedavra!" Dolohov screeched. "Avada Kedavra! Avada Kedav - " He crumpled.

Harry stared in horror. He hadn't done anything, hadn't reflected it. And yet there lay Dolohov, sprawled on the cold stone.

"No, I'm sure he's still quite alive," a familiar voice behind him said, laying a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"_Dumbledore_?" He pulled off his cloak, staring up at the headmaster in confusion. "You…you're not dead. I _saw_ it, Voldemort used the Killing Curse - "

Dumbledore held up a hand. "He missed fractionally, but the impact of the spell still did minor damage. However," a hint of a smile, "I am not dead. Mr. Weasley?" He knelt beside Ron, feeling for a pulse. "What happened?" he asked Harry.

"Dolohov used a heart failure curse, sir. Is he okay?"

"He'll be transported to St. Mungo's immediately. As for Mr. Dolohov, well, I'll take care of him also. You're needed elsewhere."

"On the grounds?"

"Exactly."

"Yes, sir."

"Good luck, Harry." Dumbledore gave him a wistful smile and levitated the bodies past him. Harry pulled the cloak back on, steeled his nerves, and climbed the steps.


	8. Avada Kedavra

A/N - My serious note is in next chapter. But for something more lighthearted, I couldn't get Voldemort right when it's the scene between him and Bella. And I took inspiration from the most corrupt, evil man I could think of… Donald Trump. Oh yeah. Enjoy the chapter.

* * *

"Cruciatus!" Draco crumpled to the ground. 

There was no longer grass beneath them, but mud. Dirt mingled with precipitation and blood. Bright red puddles from curses Harry hadn't even known existed. Some he did, ones learned from Lucius. And those were worse to witness. Because except for motives, he was exactly. like. them. Including the fucking Dark Mark burned into his flesh.

Still wrapped in his cloak, he darted out onto the field. "Malfoy? Get up, you're going to get killed." He grabbed Draco's hand and pulled hi to his feet.

Draco brushed his robes off. "Pot - ?"

Harry slapped a hand over his mouth. "Yes. Don't say it, they'll hear."

"And if they do?"

"Then I'm killed. Go find somewhere safe." Draco left quickly, wand in front of him. Mandy Brocklehurst was slammed into a tree by the force of a curse, and Harry moved to help her too.

All the while he was watching for Voldemort - the only Death Eater he knew that could see through his cloak, the only one he couldn't hide from. He sent Mandy to go recuperate, when he heard sick laughter from behind him.

Snape hadn't listened to Dumbledore, and had come to help and was caught by Death Eaters. They had forgone magical methods, beating him with their bare hands, having bound him with magical ropes. His hair fell over his face, sticking to coagulated blood. Harry wanted to help, couldn't bear to just stand there and watch. They pushed him to the ground, and Bellatrix kicked him with steel-toed boots. He struggled to get up, only to be pushed down again.

"Stupefy!" Both Harry and Snape whipped around. Lupin stood, wand raised, in front of the group. "Severus," he said softly, stepping around the unconscious Death Eaters. "Are you alright?"

"No," he muttered. Lupin held out a hand kindly. Snape tried to get up on his own, but was shaking too badly to do it Lupin grabbed his hand and led him away, murmuring softly in his ear.

"Mobilicorpus." The Death Eaters were levitated into the air, with no one beneath them. He stared, and Dumbledore appeared, winking in his direction, before disappearing again.

"'Ey!" a stray Death Eater yelled. "Wha' the 'ell! Avada Kedavra!" The curse was aimed at the spot where Dumbledore used to be, but must've missed because it hit nothing solid at first. It kept going -

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry yelled in horror. She turned around just in time to see the green light before it caught her in the chest.

"Oh, _hells_," Harry breathed.

The Death Eater got to her before he did, and cackled. "Dumbledore's minion, she is. What 'mazing luck." He pushed her roughly with the toe of his boot. "Don' worry, Professor, Dumbledore'll manage without ya. Dead men have little use for deputy headmistresses." With another rough kick, he left.

Harry ran up to her. He couldn't move her, couldn't arouse suspicion like that. He reached beneath her glasses and closed her eyes.

* * *

"Harry, get out of the way!" Hermione hissed, resting a hand on his shoulder. "They wanted her and now they won't be able to resist coming and crowing over her. We've got to go." 

"She's dead, Hermione," Harry said softly.

"_You're_ not. That rather takes priority. Come on." She tugged him away from the corpse.

Dead, his footsteps echoed. Dead dead dead. Just like he would be if he didn't get out of here. He felt surprisingly unmoved at the thought, but he followed Hermione. Dead dead dead.

* * *

"Eviscero!" The Auror that had been standing only over an arm's length away from him exploded into pieces. Harry looked away from the carnage, but pointed his wand at the Death Eater. "Aculeatus!" Welts covered his skin, and he yelped. 

A wave of dizziness washed over Harry, and his Dark Mark ached. Voldemort was near, drawing great reserves of power from every one of them. His vision blurred. He was livid about something, about… Snape. And the captured Death Eaters. But Bellatrix… had escaped? Yes, Harry was certain she had. And when he looked up she stood in the center of his vision. He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out.

_"Where are the rest, Bella?" Voldemort. So close. _Harry around wildly. He wasn't in the Forbidden Forest. Was he? No… only a vision.

_"They're being kept in a topmost tower of the castle. Completely accessible with the counterspells to simple protective charms," Bellatrix assured him, face glowing._

_"Most locations are," Voldemort said dryly. "But tell me, if the counterspells are so simple why couldn't you manage to remove anyone but yourself?"_

_"I'm not able to extend the Concealment Charm over anyone but myself. There are some - Mulciber cannot cast it safely." Open disdain in her tone._

_"He can't?" Voldemort was thoughtful. "I expect competence within my troops, do I not, Bellatrix?"_

_"Yes, of course. What do you suggest?"_

_"See to it that he's killed," Voldemort answered carelessly. Bella bowed her head and Harry's breath hitched in his throat._

His cloak was smothering him, he felt feverish. Couldn't breathe couldn't think wanted it off. Air, cool fresh air that didn't taste of blood. He broke into a sprint and threw himself into a shadowy nook.

Breathing hard, Harry ripped off his cloak and threw it to the ground. Swallowing the damp air frantically, he surveyed the darkness. And the white mask of a Death Eater. He choked and fumbled for his wand.

"Harry." His long thin fingers raised his mask, and Lucius frowned at him. "You shouldn't be here, you're going to get yourself killed."

"By you?" Harry challenged. "Voldemort wants me dead on sight, doesn't he?"

"No, not by me," Lucius said softly. "But I need you to leave, go back into hiding wherever you were."

"I am not a coward," Harry retorted.

"This isn't about cowardice and you know it, you stupid boy. You would be dead right now if it were anyone else here."

Harry shrugged. "I'll be more careful next time."

"Harry, you don't understand. If you remain here any longer there won't _be_ a next time."

"Exactly right, Lucius," Voldemort purred. They both whipped around to see him watching. "Pity I'll have to kill you both."

"My Lord - "

"Why _argue_ with me?" Voldemort interrupted in exasperation. "I told you Potter was to be killed on sight. I also told you that the one who sees him and lets him live shall suffer." He cocked his head. "You remember that, don't you?"

"Yes." He couldn't quite meet the Dark Lord's gaze. "Allow me a moment?"

Voldemort's thin lipless mouth puckered. "No longer."

Lucius nodded imperceptibly and pulled Harry closer. Ducking his head, he pressed his lips to Harry's softly. Resignedly. Harry resisted the impulse to cry.

He no longer felt tired when Lucius pulled away. In face, he was invigorated. If only he could push past Voldemort and out into the open. But he couldn't, he blocked the narrow exit. Adrenaline pushed through his veins.

"Stand aside, Harry, your death will come shortly after." Voldemort's wand was aimed at Lucius's chest.

"No."

Voldemort raised an eyebrow. "Would you prefer I kill you first?"

"I don't care, go ahead," Harry said recklessly. "But don't hurt him."

"Harry, _no_," Lucius hissed. "My Lord, I'm sorry… please be merciful."

"No," Voldemort said curtly. "It's such a shame, Lucius, you were always such a benefit. But I suppose your priorities have shifted. I cannot allow this."

Harry couldn't breathe, had to do something. Watched Voldemort raise his wand above his head.

"Avada Kedavra!"

* * *

­ 

"Severus, you shouldn't be on your feet so quickly after." Dumbledore's gentle scolding voice.

"It's gone, Headmaster."

"I'm not surprised. The charm was linked to its caster, and since he has died…."

"Was it really Potter?"

"The prophecy assures that it could be no other."

"And you verified that with Priori Incantato?"

There was a hesitation. "Harry's wand no longer functions. Complications of Voldemort's death, no doubt."

Harry shifted, feeling the hospital wing's cotton sheets against his skin. Voldemort's death? But… he hadn't. He couldn't _kill_ anyone. He… oh god. He got out of bed hurriedly and ran out of the hospital wing.

"Harry," Dumbledore said softly. "You did well, I'm proud of you."

"Where's Lucius?" he asked the two of them.

"Mr. Potter, you never learn," Snape said in exasperation.

"No," Harry agreed. "Where is he?"

"In his room, I believe," Dumbledore answered, frowning slightly. "Are you sure it's… wise to approach him alone?"

"Yeah, he's alright." Dumbledore only nodded his consent, and Harry walked off.

"Come in, it's unlocked," Lucius called.

Harry pushed the door open and shut it firmly behind himself. "Tell me everything that happened."

Lucius blinked. "Everything?"

"That I don't remember."

"Ah." He took Harry's hands and guided them both to the bed, running his fingers through Harry's hair absently. "Well, what's the last thing you remember?"

"Voldemort. And someone shouting the Killing Curse…." He trailed off.

Lucius pressed his lips together. "Harry, that was _you_."

"No, it wasn't," he said weakly. "I couldn't have killed anybody, not even him."

"You did. Didn't even flinch. And you fainted dead away right after. I thought the effort had killed you."

"And Voldemort…?"

"You would have to ask Dumbledore."

"Oh." He lay his head on Lucius's chest. "Is it safe now?"

"Of course not. But with the Mark gone there's a lot less unity among them."

"And you?"

"I solely followed the Dark Lord, and now that he's dead I feel no connection to the Death Eaters." He paused and pushed back his sleeves, revealing again the glowing cuffs. "First thing they did when the Ministry questioned me. I can't do any dark magic until they're all dead or captured, so I'm not worth anything to anybody."

"You're worth plenty to me," Harry corrected softly. Lucius only smiled. "Did they let you go?"

He pondered the question. "Probation, I suppose, with these." He pulled his sleeves down. "But they look favorably upon not killing you." Half of a grin. He tugged on a curly end of a lock of Harry's hair. "How do you feel?"

Harry considered. "I don't."

"That's alright, you will soon enough."

Someone rapped sharply at the door. "Harry? I never gave you permission to leave the infirmary!" Madam Pomfrey yelled through the heavy wood.

"In a minute," Harry called. He looked up at Lucius. "Thank you."

He nodded and kissed him gently. "Goodnight, Harry."


	9. Closure

A/N - And here ends the story, boys and girls. Thank you to everyone who reviewed it, or even just appreciated it anonymously. I'm working on several stories right now, and will post once I'm sure I'll finish them and stuff…Heh. Enjoy, and I'll see you on the other side.

Awesome Opossum

* * *

It rained that night. Heavy unapologetic sheets, pounding on the windows, still cemented in but Harry could _hear_ it. Soaking the grounds, flooding the lake. Cleansing.

The corpses had been collected. The body count was over a hundred, what he's overheard from the hushed conversations outside the infirmary. He didn't know why they whispered, he'd have to hear it eventually. Had witnessed so much of it he was numb. Just a number. Just another Killing Curse, green light out of the corner of his eye, a thud as they hit the ground. He would've sworn that he'd seen it far more than a hundred times.

Dumbledore had seen to Voldemort personally. He had collected the body, and draped a black cloak over him. Now just a corpse, Harry wasn't afraid anymore. He would've gone out, stood with Hermione and everyone else as Dumbledore lifted him into the boat with surprising ease. Dumbledore had told him that he was light. "All corpses are. They have no soul left to weight them down. No guilt, no conflict, no pain."

That night Harry had wondered if he was dead. No guilt, no conflict, no pain. Nothing left but a sense of numbness. And he barely even registered that.

Dumbledore had lit the boat on fire and pushed it into the lake. Harry had watched from the doorway, as far as Madam Pomfrey allowed him to go. "It's freezing out there, and what an event that would be, to defeat You-Know-Who and die of a cold." She didn't mince words with him. He liked that.

Remus had no words at all, but he stood with Harry in the doorway, a tentative but comforting hand across Harry's shoulders. And that was okay too.

He should've been able to sleep; for the first time in years, his thoughts and dreams were his alone. But he was restless. He got out of bed, slipped on his shoes and glasses. And without a real reason why, he went down to the lake.

He sat beneath a willow tree. It offered no protection against the rain, the ground was muddy, but it didn't matter. He leaned against the trunk, watching the raindrops hit the lake. He heard footsteps behind him, but didn't care.

"Harry?" He glanced back. Lucius was standing there, a glass in one hand and untying his cloak with the other. "Harry, it's five in the morning if it gets any colder you'll be sitting in snow, not rain."

"That's okay," he mumbled.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, such a painfully familiar expression. "And why is that?"

"Because…." He wiped the raindrops from his face, searching for the right words. "I just want to feel," he said simply.

"Ah." Lucius spread the cloak out on the mud and sat next to Harry, pulling him onto the soft fabric. He offered the glass, and Harry took a sip. Cold and sweet. His stomach started to churn and he spat it out. "Port," Lucius explained, taking back the glass gently. "Narcissa's dead," he said in the same conversational tone.

He wasn't sure whether regrets were appropriate. "Why?"

"As they - the Death Eaters - saw it, I was responsible for the Dark Lord's death. They attacked the manor, burned it to the ground, and slit her throat."

Harry said nothing, but leaned against his shoulder. Lucius sighed and wrapped an arm around him. "What now?" Harry asked softly.

"Now I'm going to pack what few belongings I have left, leave Hogwarts with dignity, and find somewhere else to go." A pause. "I told Draco last night. Didn't react at all." A sip of port. "How do you think Spain is this time of year?"

"I'd imagine it's perfect."

Lucius smiled at him wistfully. "Why would that be?"

"Because nobody would know you there. Or, with any luck, me."

"My reputation's pretty severely tarnished, that would be a relief. But you'll remain at Hogwarts for another year," Lucius told him.

"I will not." He looked back at the castle, faint in the storm. "They don't need me anymore, I know enough. I just want out." A pause. "I want to go with you."

"No."

Harry pulled out of his grip. "And why not?"

"It won't work. I'm still involved in the Dark Arts."

"That doesn't bother me."

"And what would everyone think of us?"

"Never stopped you before."

"Fair enough." He fingered a wet lock of Harry's hair. "You're not going back?"

"No."

A long silence. "I can't promise anything long-term."

"That's okay." He snaked his cold fingers through Lucius's. "Right now, I just want to feel." He hesitated, then said softly, "You make me feel." He arched up and kissed him.

Lucius let him, then pulled back. "This can't be what you want."

"This is exactly what I want."

He took a breath. "If you'd like to come, I'd love to have you with me."

"Thank you."

* * *

Draco and Xanthus were curled on a couch in the common room talking quietly when Harry came in. Draco looked up. "Oh boy. Look what the cat dragged in. You're a mess."

"Thanks, Malfoy." His hair was dripping and his clothes were muddy, so he didn't think Draco was too far off, but he didn't care.

Xanthus surveyed him. "Did you sleep outside?"

"No." He continued to his room.

Draco trailed. "Potter?"

"What?" He opened his trunk and tossed his textbooks into it. "Why did you follow me?"

"What're you _doing_? Did he make you go mad?"

"Who do you mean?" Harry asked guardedly.

"The Dark Lord, who else?"

"Oh." He folded a shirt and tossed it in as well. "I dunno. Maybe. I'm leaving."

Draco blinked. "You've cracked."

"Guess that's what you'd call it," Harry agreed, throwing a wrinkled robe in the trunk's direction.

Draco snatched it out of the air casually. "No, seriously. You're not."A kick to the trunk's lid, and it thumped closed. "You've got nowhere to _go_ but here."

"'Course I do." He reached to reopen his trunk, but Draco moved more quickly and brought his foot down on the top. "Sorry about your mother and the manor," he added.

"You were outside with my father."

"Uh-huh." He pushed Draco's foot off his trunk, shoving the robe in haphazardly.

"So did he inspire this episode of spontaneity in you?"

"Uh-huh."

"You're running off with him?"

"You don't approve?"

"Of course not. Good lord, you can't be serious." Draco shook his head. "That's going to be so awkward at family reunions."

"If I promise to myself scarce then, will you let me finish packing?"

"No, god." He absently handed Harry his brush from the nightstand. "Where would you go?"

"He said Spain. You can determine on your own if he was serious." Harry added brightly, "I'll send you postcards if you'd like."

Draco pursed his lips, then after a long pause, smiled. "You do that."

"You're _okay_?"

"No, but I've heard that Spain's beautiful." He offered his hand, and Harry shook it.

"Thanks." He let go and took the handle of his trunk, dragging it across the floor.

Draco sighed. "Potter, you have no class. Mobilarcha."

The trunk rose, levitating evenly with his shoulders. "Thank you," Harry said in surprise. "G'bye."

"Mm." And he left.

One last stop before he was gone forever. He knocked softly on the middle door.

"Who is it?" Hannah's voice called.

"It's Harry," he said back. "Is Hermione there?"

The door swung open. Hermione still had a brush to her hair - futilely - and was dressed in a thick cotton nightgown, but smiled at him. "Harry. You can't come in, sorry, they're getting dressed… but would you like to talk out here?"

"Um, yeah."

She pulled the door closed behind herself, watching him inquisitively. "Why your trunk?" she prompted.

"I'm leaving. For Spain. I don't need to be here anymore, you understand, don't you?"

"Yeah, I do." She pulled him into a tight hug. "Both of you take care."

"Thanks. How…?"

"Just a guess." She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "I'll miss you."

"Miss you too, Hermione. But I need a fresh start."

"I understand."

* * *

Lucius had always been a light sleeper, never really comfortable enough to surrender his senses in the dark. And so Harry wasn't surprised when he turned around to see the cool gray eyes watching him. "Harry, what time is it? Why're you up?" He pushed his hair off his face.

"I got an owl, didn't you hear him?" He was curled on the cushion of their bay window, watching the warm Spanish rain tap on the glass. An envelope lay in front of him unopened, Hermione's typically-meticulous handwriting looking a bit more haphazard.

"No, I didn't. Why _now_, though?" Lucius got up, picked his pocketwatch from the nightstand. "It's a quarter of four, what could be so important at this hour?"

"Dunno, I don't want to open it." He thrust the envelope at Lucius, who took it through thin fingers.

"You're being irrational."

"Uh-huh." He watched Lucius expectantly.

He slid a nail underneath the edge and pulled out the parchment.

"Well?"

Lucius held up a finger as he scanned Hermione's letter. "Perhaps you should read this yourself."

"No." His heart was beating faster. _Something is very wrong._

Lucius pursed his lips. "Denial benefits nobody."

"So _tell_ me and I'll believe you." He didn't want to hear it, wanted to disentangle himself from that world….

"Arthur Weasley's son is dead."

"Ron?" Lucius nodded, and Harry let his head fall onto his chest, and closed his eyes. He felt Lucius sit beside him, one arm wrapped around his waist. "We weren't on speaking terms anymore," he explained. "The Dark Mark, and you, and…." He trailed off. "He was brilliant, though, when…. I was going to apologize afterward, after everything was over. Then Pettigrew…. Goddamn." He lay his head on Lucius's shoulder, concentrating on the sound of the rain.

"Pettigrew's dead, if it's any consolation," Lucius offered. "That spell drained his energy, he just collapsed once he was off the grounds."

"That doesn't help," Harry said quietly. "It doesn't resurrect Ron, no matter how many Death Eaters are killed. Not him, not Bellatrix, not Voldemort himself."

"It doesn't matter, it won't change anything if I plague myself with guilt." Lucius remained quiet, and he continued, "I never thought I could do it, kill somebody. It was the prophecy and Dumbledore warned me I'd have to. But it was just so far above my comprehension, even afterward. And now." He swallowed hard inadvertently. "Now I think I get it. And I want that naïveté back."

Lucius pushed his head against his bare chest, running his fingers through Harry's fine hair. "I'm grateful you did, I never told you. You saved my life."

"I killed him. I _killed_ somebody. I'm no better than he is."

"It was a necessary evil."

"Still evil," Harry spat.

"Yes," Lucius agreed calmly. "I hope you're able to forgive yourself."

"I won't," he said. "Ever. I'll always feel guilty and evil and a murderer."

"So you're able to feel?"

That gave him pause. "Yeah, I guess I am." The tears sliding down his cheeks felt foreign.

"Come on, Harry, you need sleep," Lucius said quietly.

"No…no, I want to stay awake. Don't take this away from me." Tears dripped down his face, and he didn't dare wipe them away. "When's the funeral?"

"Thursday. Would you like to go?"

"I don't know."

"It would be closure."

"To hell with closure." He paused. "I don't want to see him like that."

"Denial, Harry."

"It's not," he insisted. "I just don't want to be part of all that anymore." Lucius cocked his head, looking at him expectantly. Harry sighed. "Okay, so it is denial. I'll pack a suitcase in the morning."

"Good, and until then…." Lucius pulled him closer, kissing him softly, stroking his hair, nibbling his neck. Harry relaxed. Yes, he definitely felt something, felt everything. It wasn't exactly a pleasant feeling, but a reassuring one. Closure. It would hurt, it would be painful, and he would feel everything, and savor it.


End file.
